


As I Recall

by coupdepam



Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 121,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupdepam/pseuds/coupdepam
Summary: Sam has an argument he'd rather forget. He then has a car crash, after which he can't remember anything at all.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 51





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this fic several years ago and posted on fanfic.net. I recently realised that I hadn't posted it here along with my other fics. I also realised I never actually got around to finishing it although the main issues in story had been resolved I think I've probably got some spare time to do that in the next few weeks!  
> Stay safe!  
> Coupdepam

“It’s going to be a beautiful day, Bonnie.”

Toby could hear Sam’s voice drifting into his office. He shook his head and returned to the notes he was writing. 

“The rain has gone, the sun is smiling down on us and the sky is blue.”

“Did you get me a bagel or not,” Bonnie asked, unimpressed with Sam’s assessment of the morning.

“I did, I did get you a bagel and whilst I was getting it I noted what a beautiful day it’s promising to be. The sky especially was winking at me.”

“Winking?” Bonnie titled her head to one side, frowned and took the offered bagel. 

“Yes, it was winking. For, I saw a star, I reached for it, and I missed. So I accepted the sky.” Sam nodded wisely at the aptness of his quote and took the coffee that Ginger offered.

“Staff’s in ten and Toby’s waiting to see you. I’m not certain, but I don’t think he’s picked up on the beauty of the day just yet.”

“I’m going in here,” Sam whispered as he pointed to his office but Toby’s bark of his name made escape impossible and he resignedly handed Bonnie his coat and changed direction.

“When you’ve finished waxing lyrical about how you find the day maybe you could tell me why you saw fit to meet with Phillips even though I told you not to!”

“I didn’t meet with him, I ran into him on the Hill. It wasn’t a meeting!” Any joy that the morning sky had brought was lost on Sam now as he stood facing an extremely volatile Toby.

“The fact that you spoke to him at all shows that you weren’t listening to a word I said and you need to listen, Sam, because you obviously haven’t learnt any lessons from your previous debacles.” Toby ignored the indignant look on Sam’s face.

“Previous debacles! Are you seriously thinking that I went ahead to meet with Phillips even though we agreed not to? Do you think I was stomping my feet?”

“Phillips is a liability and one we agreed we were going to steer clear of. And yes, I think you were stomping your feet. I think, once again, you’ve let naivety get in the way of what we’re trying to do here. I’m sorry that you think he’s a good man but the Washington Post thinks otherwise and until CJ’s had a chance to get to the bottom of it we stay well away.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Toby, and I agree. I agreed with you when we discussed it with Leo. I can understand this could look bad if someone was to twist it that way but what I don’t understand is why you’re so willing to.”

Toby walked over to the door and closed it as Bonnie quickly looked down at her work. “Willing? You think I want to be having this conversation? You think I want a Deputy who seems to stumble from one PR blunder to another just because he thinks he’s got some sort of divine highroad to take?” The question was punctuated by the sound of Toby’s hand slamming against the desk.

Sam took a deep breath that was equally as ineffective as Toby’s. “We’re done.”

Toby put his hands on his hips and laughed. It was a short cynical sound that was more threatening than his words. “No we’re not. I’ll tell you when-”

“We’re done,” Sam repeated and he proved by the point by walking from Toby’s office and slamming the door to his.

Apart from staff, Sam stayed in his office for the rest of the morning. He tortured himself for a few moments by looking at the blog that had the picture of him and Phillips. The picture was innocent enough but it didn’t show the truth of the fleeting greeting the two men had shared. It was enough though for the lobbyist who had somehow got hold of the picture to imply relations were good between one of the President’s closest aides and the congressman currently being investigated for embezzlement and blackmail. 

Sam read the blog three times and shook his head. It was carefully written. There was not one libellous word. Sam scrolled down to the comments below. The blog was innocent but, as intended, the posts that followed it were anything but. He was just about to close the page when a name he recognised caught his eye. Midshipman42, had many things to say about Sam Seaborn and none of them were to do with Phillips. The post was a rant centred on the President’s last speech and questioning if his speechwriters should be free to wander around Washington if that was the level of oratory they could accomplish. The following posts also had nothing to do with Phillips. Midshipman42 had derailed the topic which had now spiralled out of control and somehow become a war between two posters about the right to work at home. Sam shook his head and smiled. He turned back to the notes he was working on and made a mental note to phone Darren, whom he suspected was Midshipman, to see if he wanted to meet for a drink later on.

Two hours later, Sam had managed to finish his notes, write a first draft, eat his lunch and email Darren. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. When he removed his hand he found Josh standing in front of his desk. “Who’s Midshipman42?”

Sam smiled and nodded to an empty chair. “I suspect it’s Darren.”

“Your friend from Gage?”

Sam nodded. “He derailed the posts questioning my ethics which is a shame as they’re always fun to read.”

“Ethics alone do not make a man; it is how he lives his life that shows us truly what his ethics are.” Josh nodded wisely at his own words.

“Yeah, well, unfortunately it’s apparently SpotlightDC.com that shows us as well.” Sam returned to his notes. He knew Josh hadn’t come to see him for a reason except to show his support. Sam was secretly grateful for it.

“So, you meeting up with Darren tonight?” 

“Yeah, you want to tag along?”

Josh leant back in the chair and stretched. “CJ said something about drinks tonight. I was meant to ask you...I think...you or Toby.”

“I don’t think Toby’s happy being in the same building as me right now so...” Sam shrugged. “Maybe next time.” 

Josh nodded and jumped to his feet. “I should be getting back.” He turned at the door to see Sam pretending to read the notes in front of him. A quick glance into Toby’s office revealed the same pretence at concentration. He shut the door and walked back to the desk. “What did Toby say about Phillips? You two were pretty tense in Leo’s office.”

“It’s fine. He’s pissed and he has every right to be. A story like that no matter how unfounded is the last thing we need right now.”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded but he knew there was something else. “He’s okay then?”

Sam made a show of realising his coffee cup was empty and rose to get it refilled pushing past Josh in the process.

Josh ignored Sam’s ploy to get them out of the privacy of his office and asked the question again. Sam took a sip from the coffee he hadn’t really wanted and smiled. “He’s fine. Really, Josh, it’s fine. He’s just pissed right now. He’ll get over it and be his usual warm and jovial self.”

Josh patted Sam on the back. “Just the thought of that makes me shudder.” 

Sam returned to his office and spent the rest of the afternoon completing more work than he had managed in days. Being ignored by Toby, he decided, had its advantages.

By the time seven o’clock came around, Sam was more than ready for a drink. He cleared his desk and quickly left his office purposely avoiding Toby. He didn’t think the slight would be noticed, Toby had certainly gone out of his way to avoid him all day. He thought he’d made it when CJ’s voice stopped him in his tracks as he was signing out. 

“Hey there, Samson.”

“What happened to Samshine?”

“Is it sunny in Sam land?” CJ asked as she took the pen and signed her name.

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, there you go then.” She turned around but Toby, who had been right behind her, was nowhere in sight. “Josh said you’re meeting up with a friend tonight. Sure you don’t want to join us?”

Sam followed CJ’s gaze towards the stairs. “Toby won’t be down until I’ve gone if that’s who you’re looking for. And, that’s the reason I won’t be joining you tonight.” He shrugged and smiled at her.

CJ frowned as she studied him. His attempt to appear unbothered was soon broken by her scrutiny. She reached out and rubbed at his arm. “He’ll get over it. It’s not that bad, not as bad as we thought. A few mentions here or there, nothing we can’t handle.”

Sam nodded and smiled again, this time with more feeling. “It’s fine, CJ. It’s just better that I stay off his radar for a few days.” Sam knew he was going to be blasted with another piercing, searching gaze so he made sure he looked as if he believed the words he had just spoken.

The bar was crowded. Sam ordered a drink and then went in search of a table. He had arrived early and was glad of a few moments alone before his friend arrived. By the time Darren spotted him, Sam had rid himself of the physical signs of tension and believed he looked relaxed and unfazed by the day’s events.

“You look like crap!” was Darren’s greeting as he pulled a chair up to the table.

“I thought I looked like a man who had stood firm against the ravages of DC life.”

“You look a little like that but mainly you look like crap.”

Sam nodded. “I used to wear the ravages so well.”

“You’re getting old. We both are. Too old for the games that I bet you’ve had to play today.”

“It’s not too bad, nowhere near as bad as...you know.”

Darren nodded. He knew Sam was referring to Kevin Kahn. Neither of them talked about their mutual friend now. “Did my internet stunt cheer you up?”

“It did.” Sam smiled. 

“Well that’s a good day’s work. I achieved very little else today, that’s for sure.” 

Sam leant forward to hear the latest news about Darren’s quest to make partner. An hour passed and both men had managed to leave the stresses of the day behind them in reminiscing and coming up with absurd plans to aid Darren’s career. Darren soon realised that Sam wasn’t going to talk about Phillips and so he sat back and listened to his friend’s advice instead.

“You need to sleep with someone.”

“That’s it? That’s your advice on how I make partner!”

Sam nodded slowly. “Now, I assume you would prefer to sleep with a female?”

“You assume correctly.”

“In that case you need to think of all the women associated with the firm and draw up a list of their positions.”

Darren frowned. “How am I meant to know what positions they...oh, you mean positions within the firm.”

“I do, although, knowing the other would be a helpful strategy.” Sam continued to explain his plan including a sleeping reference chart based on influence and possible connections. Darren decided that he would consider sleeping with a man if the outcome was absolutely guaranteed to achieve the required result. Sam agreed that this was a sensible decision, especially as Darren had been unable to think of one single woman who matched the criteria.

The food arrived and their plans were left unfinished. Sam sat back and took a slow sip of his coffee. For the first time that day he had managed to spend more than five minutes not reliving his meeting with Phillips, conversation with Toby and every word of CJ’s briefings. He thought about Josh and how he had shown his support. He absently wondered where they had gone to eat and opened his eyes to see Josh in the doorway to the bar. The coincidence of his random thought and the appearance of Josh made Sam wipe at his eyes. On opening them, Josh was as clear as day in the doorframe and Toby and CJ were clearer still behind him. “Of all the bars in DC...” Sam mumbled.

Darren followed his gaze. “There’s Josh!”

“Yeah.” Sam smiled as Josh spotted him and made his way over. He noticed Toby lead CJ to a table on the over side of the room.

“Have you eaten already?” Josh asked. “Come and join us.” 

Sam glanced over at CJ who was waving him over. Toby had sat with his back to Sam’s table. “Tempting though the idea of being ignored by Toby is, I think I’ll just finish this drink and head off.”

Darren decided that Midshipman still had work to do. “Oh come on, Sam. You’ve got to face him tomorrow, might as well break the ice tonight. I’ll warm him up with my innate charm and endearing nature.”

“Darren’s never met Toby has he,” Josh stated.

Reluctantly, Sam agreed to come over for a drink when Darren went. “Believe me you don’t want to end the evening with the Director of Grouch over there.”

They had one more drink before Darren decided he should call it a night. “Go see your boss. Remember, innate charm and endearing nature- works every time. Of course, you’ll have to work on the charm. Don’t leave it until I have to save your ass online next time!”

Sam laughed and promised he wouldn’t. He drained the remnants of his glass and with a deep sigh walked over to join his friends. 

The conversation was halted by Sam’s arrival at their table. Josh insisted on buying Sam a drink despite Sam’s insistence that he wasn’t going to stay. Sam cursed Josh silently as he pulled up a chair next to CJ. She made several attempts to start a conversation that included both Sam and Toby but Toby was clearly intent on having no part of it and Sam was too tired now to keep up the pretence that Toby’s mood was having no effect on him. 

After an awkward few minutes, Josh returned with drinks for them all. He made the same effort as CJ and gave up as quickly. Finally, Sam drained his glass and stood. “Thanks for the drink,” he said to Josh as he pulled on his coat.

Realising nothing was going to be resolved Josh and CJ finished their drinks too. Toby drained his bourbon and then he too stood and reached for his coat. They walked out of the bar and stood on the sidewalk.

“You two really should be aware of the ramifications of when you aren’t talking. It makes Ginger unhappy and when Ginger’s unhappy, Donna’s unhappy and when Donna’s unhappy...well you can see where I’m going with this.”

“I’m not ignoring Sam, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t comment on how I handle my staff.”

“Handle! You need to handle me?” Sam asked. 

“I’m sorry, did I miss the memo telling me my Deputy had turned into a ten year old brat?” 

“Well, I don’t know, but I sure missed the one that explained why you’re treating me like one!”

Josh held his hands up hoping the action would stop Toby’s reply, which, he was certain, would not be conducive to making amends. “You know what, it’s late and this isn’t the time to be having this discussion.”

Toby ignored him. “Okay, Sam, you want to know if I need to handle you. Well let’s see, has my day been mostly spent dealing with something you did despite what we discussed? Is this the first day I’ve spent like this? Do I have use for a Deputy who seems to spend as much time in the papers communicating the wrong message as he does in his office trying to write the right one?”

Josh knew which words would sting Sam the most. He winced inwardly as did CJ.

“Trying to write?” Sam’s eyes widened. 

“Ok, that’s it.” CJ stepped between the two men. She hated seeing Toby and Sam fighting but she’d hate it even more for a member of the press to see it. “I’m ending this before one of you says something you’ll regret.”

“You don’t think he’ll regret that?” Josh said of Toby’s words.

Josh wasn’t sure how this had happened. He’d got Toby and Sam together, he’d broken the ice and he’d bought drinks. Now he watched as Sam took a deep breath as if forcing all the things he wanted to say back inside. Sam shook his head and shrugged. “He won’t regret it. In fact, I think he’s been waiting to say that for some time.” His words were quietly spoken, almost too quiet for Josh to hear. Sam patted his pockets for his car keys and then quickly walked away. 

Josh shook his head as he watched Sam get into his car and pull into the road. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“We needed to blow off some steam that’s all,” Toby answered. “It’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“I hope you’re right because there’s no way I’m-”

Noises. He would always remember the next few moments of his life as a string of noises. There was the crash, sudden and deafening and followed by a brief silence. Continuous car horns, then words were the next sounds. Then curses coming from somewhere near him and the clacking of stiletto heels running away from him. It was only when he matched the last sound to the sight of CJ running towards Sam’s wrecked car that he finally managed to move.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew without trying that he would be unable to open the passenger’s door. It was forced in almost to the middle of the car. Josh didn’t look at the driver’s side; he wasn’t ready to look yet. The front of the car had smashed into a wall and so he clambered over the hood and  
between the tight space between the wall and Sam’s door.

He still didn’t look inside. He heard Toby yelling and looked up to see him pulling the driver out of the car that had careered into Sam’s onto the sidewalk. The driver looked dazed. Later  
Toby would tell Josh that he could smell the alcohol before he had put his head in the car.

Josh pulled at the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. He could hear CJ shouting out for the name of the street. A man answered her and told her he’d already phoned for an ambulance. He pulled again at the handle frantically and finally he looked. 

Sam was sitting upright and for a fleeting moment Josh thought he was just sitting back calmly, waiting for help. He could see the shape of the car though, he could see the dashboard was twisted out of recognition and knew that beneath, the shape was mirrored in the body of the car.

Josh shouted out to Sam, hoping he’d know he wasn’t on his own, that he was trying to get to him. He pulled again at the handle of the rear door and cried out his relief when it opened easily. 

He was totally oblivious to everything except clambering into the back seat and closer to Sam. He wasn’t aware that Toby was being held back as two waiters from a nearby restaurant hauled the drunken and uninjured driver away from him. He couldn’t see CJ standing helplessly in the middle of the road, her hand on her forehead as she shouted out to Toby to help. Her words broke through to her incensed friend and Toby ran to Sam’s car and repeated the process of frantically trying to open doors before squeezing between the wall and car and leaning into the open rear door. “Josh?”

“He’s breathing,” Josh confirmed but that was about all he could say for the state he found Sam in. “He’s breathing,” Josh repeated as if the words alone would keep Sam doing so. Toby tried to shift further towards the front but it was impossible.

“Where are they?” Josh asked helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. He had no idea how he could even start to help Sam. 

The rear-view mirror hung precariously from the roof but Toby could see Sam’s head clearly in it. The rage he had released at the driver moments before had left him feeling nothing but a surreal calmness. He looked at Josh who was pleading with him to help. Toby knew he could do this, he did this all the time, getting Josh and Sam out of scrapes was one of the things he did best. “Move his head...help him breathe.” Josh immediately did what Toby said. “Is he bleeding?” Again, Josh responded to Toby’s cool voice and reached forwards. His hand was soon wet with warm, sticky liquid and Josh nodded. 

“He’s bleeding, he’s bleeding all over.” 

“No he isn’t, Josh! Feel again and work out where it’s coming from.” Josh squeezed his shoulders further into the tight space between the two seats and ran his hand over the part of Sam he could reach. The blood was everywhere, Josh hadn’t exaggerated. He leaned further forward and found the source of the bleeding. “Take this!” A towel was passed to Josh from Toby and at the same moment a flash of light entered the car. Josh assumed Toby was responsible for all of this; he was finding clean towels and shining flashlights, barking instructions and trying to get the passenger door open all from the back seat. For Josh there was only Sam, Toby and hell.

And then there was only Sam. Voices seemed muffled to Josh, even Toby’s. The flashlight’s beam was centred on Sam, occasionally spinning around the inside of the car when the arm that held it was jostled by the activity outside. Josh pushed the wadded towel as hard as could against Sam’s head. He talked to him, told him that everything was okay and that he was there. 

It was minutes. CJ later had trouble convincing Josh of that. From the time of the crash to the time the ambulance finally screeched to a halt beside the wrecked car only minutes passed. Josh wasn’t even aware of the sirens though as that was the moment Sam chose to open his eyes. 

Josh was aware of the fact that Sam had come around by the feeble attempts he felt to push his hand away. “He’s awake, Toby, he’s awake!” There was no answer. Toby was standing outside of the car making way for the paramedics. 

“Oh, God.” Sam’s head turned towards Josh. He tried to focus on what he assumed was the source of the pain. “Get...off...off me!”

“Sam, listen to me. It’s alright. You’re bleeding a little bit that’s all. I have to hold this here, okay. I’m going to hold this so you stop bleeding.”

Sam frowned. He didn’t understand. The pain was overwhelming and he couldn’t move. “No, get out...” Josh thought Sam was telling him to go again but then Sam started to twist away fumbling for where the door handle would normally be.

“Not yet, Sam, just a little longer. The door’s stuck...they’ll get us out though, Toby’s telling them to and you don’t argue with Toby.”

Sam shook his head, “Never,” he agreed. He looked ahead, the shattered glass a giant spider’s web before him. “Can we go?”

“Not yet...little longer.” Josh looked at the white towel which was now crimson. “You hold on, okay!” 

Sam nodded obediently. “Getting cold.”

The flashlight spun upwards and away from the car and was replaced with a much stronger light. Josh preferred it before, he could hardly see Sam in that light but now everything was clear, the sickening twist of the dashboard, the blood, the window and Sam’s ashen face. “Hold on!” Josh ordered and Sam turned his face towards him.

“Don’t shout...just want...go...if it gets colder.” 

Josh reached for Sam’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Sorry, I won’t shout again. It’s just...you need to hold on.”

“On my count, one two three!” Josh felt the car shift slightly and realised the truck was being pushed backwards to allow the fire-fighters and paramedics room to work. Josh had to be asked twice to move before he responded to the paramedic who was waiting to get into the small space beside Sam. The street had been deserted when he had climbed into the car but now it was an entirely different scene. The emergency vehicle’s lights shrouded the street with a pulsating glow, cars that were unable to move past the vehicles were parked up on both sides of the road and paramedics and fire-fighters were moving rapidly between their vehicles and Sam’s car. The cool air hit Josh and he breathed in deeply as he searched the crowd for Toby and CJ. 

Toby heard Josh call his name and spun around to find him but was as bewildered by the lights and bustle as Josh was. He was on his phone, waiting for Margaret to get Leo. He was standing in front of a bar, the sight of people inside craning to look at the accident whilst sipping at their drinks sickened him and he turned away.

“This better be good, Toby, I’m two moves away from Checkmate.” Leo’s gruff voice pulled Toby’s gaze away from the sight of Sam’s car and the fire-fighter lifting a machine to the roof. 

“It’s not good, it’s far from good. There’s been an accident.” Toby didn’t realise that Josh had now found him and was standing by his side, arms folded around his waist. Some of the onlookers from the bar turned away at the sight of the man covered in blood, some moved nearer the window for a closer look. “He’s here...she’s here too...I don’t know, it’s bad...no, not yet, they’ve started cutting the roof. Yes, that bad, Leo, did you think I was calling to tell you Sam had scraped his bumper! Yeah, sorry, yeah...okay...okay.” Toby hung up and then jumped when Josh’s asked him who he had called. Toby bit back his angry reply at the sight of Josh who looked appalling, the blue lights adding an unworldly look to his already ashen features. “I called Leo.” Josh nodded and both men turned back towards the car. 

It takes two minutes to cut the roof off a car. Toby knew this because he had spent an afternoon arguing about federal funding for firefighting equipment. It had been a statistic he had used in his argument but now it was a reality. He watched as the machine effortlessly cut though the metal and the roof was lifted away. Sam wasn’t visible, there were too many paramedics and other people crowded around. He suddenly thought of CJ and grabbed Josh’s arm, pulling him closer to the scene. 

CJ was on her phone too. Her call was to Carol who was already pulling on her jeans ready to make her way back to work. Toby looked at CJ’s face as he and Josh joined her on the sidewalk and wondered if he looked as bad as she and Josh did. There was nothing they could do. There was no room for anyone else besides the emergency teams and the doctor who had walked from five cars back in the jam to offer his help. CJ placed her phone back in her pocket and reached for Toby’s hand. It was quickly taken and squeezed tightly. They stepped closer to the car, feeling utterly helpless but hoping that somehow Sam would know they were nearby. 

Sam knew nothing but pain. He could hear people talking to him and other people talking in less reassuring tones. He tried to turn his head but it was being held in place. “Please don’t move, Sam. We’ll have you out of here soon but try not to move.”

Someone else had been with him, not these strangers that were keeping him trapped. He tried to think who it was and shook his head to clear the fog that enveloped him but the hands had been replaced with something else now, something that was around his neck, stopping him from moving. He remembered who had been there.

Josh ran as soon as he heard Sam’s desperate call of his name. He ran past the policeman who told him he couldn’t go any further and past the firefighter who asked him to stay clear of the scene. He ran until he reached the car and all the time he called Sam’s name and told him he was coming. The door had been cut free now and Josh quickly saw a space he could move into without impeding the efforts of the paramedics.

“I’m here, Sam, right here.” Josh crouched down beside the space where the door had been and reached in to take Sam’s hand. A neck brace had been put on and an IV line attached to Sam’s arm. A hand that belonged to a woman sitting in the back of the car reached around and placed a mask over Sam’s face. He fought the action and so Josh took it from her and placed it there again.

Toby and CJ were as close to the car as they could get. CJ was happy to stand where she was, her view of Sam often blocked by a paramedic. She was haunted by images of Josh lying on the pavement and was in no hurry to add equally distressing images of Sam to them. Her hand was being squeezed tightly and she removed it from Toby’s grasp and wrapped her arm around him instead. Toby didn’t want his view to be blocked. Every time it was he craned his head so that he could still see Sam. He wanted to call out, to tell Sam that he was there too but he said nothing.

“Let me out,” Sam pleaded. “Please, l...let...pl...please!”

Josh told him again that he’d be out soon and leaned as far into the car as he could. “Look at me, look at me, Sam.” He waited until Sam slowly turned his gaze to where his friend’s voice was coming from. “Did I tell you I ran into Gary Newbuck the other day? Did I tell you that, Sam?” Sam frowned at Josh and shook his head. “Didn’t think I did, well, I have good news because Gary invited me to go sailing.” 

“S...s...sailing...don’t...you don’t...”

“No, I don’t sail but he doesn’t know that. Anyway, here’s the thing- I sort of let him believe I could sail and he’s challenged me to a race. You’ve got a ship haven’t you, you could teach me.” 

“N...n...not ship...not...”

“Boat, ship, the point is I can’t sail and you can and I’ve taken up Gary’s challenge and the pride of the White House is at stake here. Remember the baseball?”

Sam was frowning again, agitated, his attention again on removing the mask and escaping.

“Sam!” Josh’s shout brought Sam’s eyes back to him. “Remember the baseball?”

Sam nodded. “Remem...remember...lost...” 

“That’s right, we lost big.” Josh knew Sam was fading. A part of him willed him to pass out. He knew how the memories of these moments would haunt Sam. A part of him wanted Sam to stay with him though, keep holding onto his hand with the tight grip that was weakening as the moments drew on. The sound of a bag being ripped open made Josh look up at the man working urgently by Sam’s side. He watched as the paramedic added yet another wad to the blood-soaked dressing on Sam’s head. “It’s dropping,” someone called out, and this obviously meant more to the woman behind Josh than it did to him as she called urgently to the fire-fighter that they had to move now. 

“One minute,” a calm voice replied and Josh was asked to step aside. He moved as far back as he could but made sure his hand was still in Sam’s. The man crouched down in front of him and waited for instructions before starting the machine he was holding. The crumpled dash was slowly raised upwards; its progress halted every few moments as a medic checked the position of Sam’s legs.

The blood that covered everything hadn’t turned Josh’s stomach but the first glimpse he had of Sam’s mangled ankle did. He threw up the pizza and beer he had eaten onto the sidewalk and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. However uncomfortable the experience was for him he knew it must be horrific for Sam, whose screams were filling the night air. 

That was all Toby could take. He pulled away from CJ and walked quickly to the other side of the street. 

Josh called Sam’s name but knew he was no longer aware of anything but pain. As soon as Sam was lifted from the wreck the pain became too much and he finally slipped into unconsciousness. Josh had reluctantly walked away from the car to let the paramedics place Sam onto the waiting gurney. He didn’t go far though and Toby watched as he hurried behind it and into the ambulance that immediately sped away from the scene. 

Toby watched the ambulance’s lights faded into the distance. He turned his attention back to the car. A man was bending into what was left of the driver’s seat. “Doesn’t look like it,” he called to a man on the other side. 

One of the paramedics joined the conversation. “You don’t get injuries like that when you’re wearing a belt.” Toby closed his eyes as his vision blurred. Sam wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt because he was upset, in a hurry to get away. He was upset and in a hurry to get away because of him. 

He felt a tug on his arm and turned to see CJ at his side. “We should go.” Toby nodded and followed her away from the wreck and back towards his car.


	3. Chapter 3

Josh hadn’t been with Sam long before he was wheeled away from him but he comforted himself with the knowledge that when Sam had briefly come to in the ambulance he had known Josh was there. Now he stood in a busy waiting area willing the next people to walk through the doors to be CJ and Toby. 

During the ride to the hospital, Toby had gotten himself together. He had lost the helpless, dazed expression that CJ had witnessed and returned to a demeanour that he felt much more comfortable with, gruffness.

“Is there a suggestion box or something? How about ‘move the parking lot closer so you don’t have to get a taxi to the hospital from it’!” 

On hearing Toby’s voice Josh jumped up from his seat and waved him over. Josh took a few moments to savour CJ’s comforting embrace before turning to Toby to answer his questions that he was seemingly asking anyone who would listen. “He’s still in the ER, I don’t know how long before we hear anything, I haven’t got hold of his parents and no, I don’t know if there’s a suggestion box here.”

Toby huffed in reply but was suitably quietened by Josh’s words. He sat down heavily in a chair next to a man who was holding a bloody cloth to his arm. He glanced at the man and stood again before wandering over to the drinks machine at the end of the room. 

“How was he...in the ambulance...was he awake?” CJ touched Josh’s arm and he was overwhelmed with gratitude that she was here. He let her rub his arm soothingly and together they walked over to a couple of chairs set away from the rest of the seating.

“He opened his eyes. I think he knew I was there. I kept talking...saying, you know, stuff...trying to let him know he wasn’t alone.” 

CJ nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Carol’s gone in. She said she’ll phone me as soon as she hears anything. The crash was on the news but they don’t know who it was yet.”

“Good.” Josh wanted just a little time before they had to deal with statements and how they had to handle the press. He wanted to at least start to handle it as a friend for a little while first. “I couldn’t get his parents.”

“Yeah, you said. I think Toby’s got Bonnie onto it.”

Josh nodded and leant back against the chair. He watched as Toby tried without success to get a coffee from the machine, he was unable to get the coins he had inserted back and after a well-placed thump to the side of the machine yielded nothing he gave up and returned to the seats. He was about to start a diatribe about how the stolen coins could pay for the parking lot to be moved when Josh shot up and rushed towards the corridor.

The nurse who had told Josh to wait thirty minutes earlier had emerged from the ER and was on her way back in. By the time CJ and Toby had caught up she had finished what she was saying and headed back into the room. Josh turned around to face them. “They’re taking him to surgery but they can’t get him stabilised.”

“That’s not as bad as it sounds.” Toby shook his head. “It sounds bad but it just means he’s not ready to go up there yet, they need to get tubes in him and...things.” Toby didn’t believe what he was saying himself so he knew his words would be of no comfort to CJ and Josh. CJ agreed with him anyway and Josh nodded as if all three of them were suddenly experts on Emergency Room procedures. They returned to the seats and sat in silence. 

The man who was holding the bloodied cloth to his arm was called and stitched up. Toby watched as his friend helped steer him in the direction of the elevator. A boy was brought in by his anxious mother. Her husband appeared a few moments later carrying a bottle and a heated row broke out about exactly who had left the detergent on the table. The boy was called in by a doctor and a little while later Toby watched him leave too. Sam had been in the OR for two hours. They’d had him stable enough to leave the ER when Toby was walking back to his car having realised he’d left his phone in it. He had returned in time to see Josh dashing down the corridor after the gurney that was being quickly wheeled away from him. “I’m here, Sam!” Toby shuddered as Josh unwittingly echoed the words Toby had once heard Sam call out. He wondered if Sam had heard Josh; if Josh had heard Sam all that time ago.

It had been four hours now. Toby had found another excuse to wander off to his car. CJ stood by the window and below her she could see Toby walking up and down. Josh was mirroring his movements, all be it on a smaller scale, along the corridor. CJ rested her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes. Josh returned to his seat. A nurse had nearly collided into him for the third time and the look on her face clearly expressed her desire for him to find a seat and stay in it. At some point someone had brought a clean top for Josh to change into and placed his bloodied shirt in a bag. He looked down at where it lay between his feet. He would throw it away when he got home. He didn’t know why they had given it to him. He stood up and walked over to CJ. “I suppose they think I might complain later if they threw it away.”

“I’m sorry?” CJ was as confused by Josh’s statement as she was startled by his appearance.

“My shirt, I suppose some people might complain later if the hospital just threw their clothes away.”

CJ nodded and turned back to the window. Then she realised Josh wanted company not a conversation and she straightened and walked back with him to the chairs. “I might give Carol a call. It’s been a while since she phoned.”

“Yeah, and ask her if Bonnie’s had any luck.” Josh’s gaze returned to the bag between his feet. “I’m just going to throw this away. I don’t know why they gave it to me.” CJ squeezed his shoulder and headed outside. 

She was nearly at the main entrance when she was met by a flustered Toby coming the other way. He was circling his finger in the air and giving her a look that she suspected she was meant to understand. “What does,” CJ copied his movement, “mean?”

“It means don’t go outside.”

“Why can’t I go outside? Helicopters?” 

“No. Press.”

“Why is there...” CJ realised what that meant. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Toby rubbed at his forehead and then sighed. “Oh, indeed, Claudia Jean.” He placed his hand on her back and guided her back towards the elevator.

When they returned to the waiting room Josh was sitting in his seat but clearly only doing so because the nurse he had bumped into was standing in the corridor. CJ noticed the bag from beneath his chair was gone. Toby sat down next to him. “Any news?”

Josh shook his head and stretched; the sound of creaking bones made CJ wince. “What did Carol say?”

“I didn’t get a chance to phone, there’s press outside.”

“Why is there... Oh.”

“Don’t you start,” Toby said as he got up and changed the channel on the TV that was playing mutely in the corner of the room. The first news station he went to was showing a picture of Sam. Toby fiddled with the remote trying to get some sound but gave up and tried the TV instead but couldn’t find a volume control. The screen was now filled with footage of someone standing outside a bar. In the corner of the screen there was a picture of Sam’s wrecked car and along the bottom the words, ‘President Bartlet’s speechwriter in serious condition after car crash’ were running endlessly. “I think we can safely say that the press has the story now. Is Carol onto it?”

“Well, I don’t know, Toby. I was going outside to phone her when this strange man came towards me doing this.” She demonstrated the movement to Josh.

“That means turn around,” Josh announced and CJ ignored Toby’s huff of triumph. 

“I’ll go find out where we can use our phones,” CJ said and as she headed for the nurses’ station. It had been five hours now.

Carol listened as CJ told her who to call, who to avoid and when to announce the briefing. She had only been in for an hour when Bonnie and Ginger had joined her. Charlie had joined them occasionally and helped in the search for Sam’s dad. His mother had been contacted and was on her way. Charlie was glad to have something to do. Leo and Bartlet had returned to their offices after Toby’s call and had been there ever since. Charlie had kept the coffee coming and was now going to organise breakfast. After arranging something for the President he went down to the Mess and ordered food to be brought up for Ginger, Carol and Bonnie. Then, he decided, he would phone the hospital again and pre-empt the President’s constant requests for an update.

Toby was asleep. They had been shown to a small room which had a water-cooler, TV and phone. They knew they were very lucky to get a room to themselves. They also knew it was one of the perks of being on the President’s staff and appreciated the privacy those perks now brought them. It had helped that Toby had hinted the President may be coming to visit Sam.

Toby was sitting on one chair with his feet resting on the arm of another. Josh was sitting hunched over in his chair, staring at his feet. CJ had been on the phone constantly for the past thirty minutes. She placed the phone back on a small table and flopped back in her chair. “Carol’s on top of everything.”

Josh didn’t sit up. “Good. Sam’s dad?”

“Not yet.”

Josh nodded and the room fell back into silence. The sound of the door suddenly opening caused CJ to jump and finally made Josh lift his head. He stood straight up when he saw who had entered.

“Good morning, I understand you’ve been here all night.”

Toby quickly removed his legs from the chair and pointed for the doctor to take the seat.

“No thanks, if I sit down now I’ll never get up. Let me tell you about Sam and then we can see about letting you see him. First of all, the operation went well although there were a few problems with Sam’s breathing during it. When you see him he’ll be on a ventilator. His ankle is broken and there may be some nerve damage. He has a collapsed lung, lacerations to his face and a deep head wound. His left wrist is broken as is one of his ribs. Our main concern is his lack of response. At the moment he’s not responding to any stimuli.” 

“He’s in a coma.” 

The doctor nodded in response to Toby’s statement. “For now it’s a waiting game. There’s no reason to hope that he won’t come out of it.” He paused. “There’s some swelling to his brain. We’re hopeful that surgery won’t be needed. At the moment, the swelling isn’t increasing. After that list of injuries you might not agree, but your friend is lucky. From what I can gather he nearly didn’t make it to the hospital, he nearly didn’t make it to the OR either. He’s got some fight in him and in my experience that makes all the difference.”

Doctor Dean’s words were greeted with silence. Toby cleared his throat, Josh went back to staring at his shoes and then CJ asked the question they all wanted answering. “But, he’s going to be alright isn’t he?”

Despite his earlier protest the doctor did now sit. He looked at the three people waiting eagerly for his answer. Whether he gave people a lengthy description of their loved one’s injuries in medical terms or a short summary in plain English it was often met with that response. He had told people of injuries so severe the chance of survival was minimal and still they had looked at him seemingly ignoring his words and asked him that simple question. Dean sighed, he had just told these three highly intelligent people that their colleague had nearly died twice tonight and had come close to it again a number of times in the OR, of course he wasn’t going to be alright. “He’s got a long way to go and I’ll be happier when he’s off the ventilator but he came through the surgery. He’s young and healthy and came into this strong. The chance of the brain damage being severe will be reduced if we don’t need to operate and-”

“Wait a minute! Brain damage!” Josh jumped out of his seat.

“Yes, Josh, brain damage,” Toby said in a calm voice. “What do you think swelling does to the brain?”

Dean looked at the three shocked faces and realised the man he had operated on was more than just a colleague to them. “I’m going to see if Sam is out of post-op yet. They’ll want to do a CAT scan but when he’s settled in ICU I’ll make sure you’re told as soon as you can see him.”

It was another hour before a nurse came in and told them they could see Sam. Josh stood immediately and headed for the door. CJ followed him but they both stopped when they realised Toby was still seated. “You coming?” Josh asked with a frown.

“Yeah, you two go ahead, I’ll be along in a minute.”

CJ lingered and tried to catch Toby’s gaze but he remained staring at his hands which were clasped tightly together.

As they got closer to where Sam was, Josh’s pace slowed. CJ walked over to the nurses’ station. A nurse came out from behind the desk and told them to follow her. CJ grabbed Josh’s hand and he found himself being pulled along behind her. He wondered if this was what it had been like for them when he was the one in the hospital bed. He heard the nurse tell them they could have five minutes and then he was standing beside Sam’s bed.

The nurse had explained what the wires and tubes were for. Many of them he recognised and knew only too well. The EEG wires attached to Sam’s scalp were a shock, and brought home to Josh the extent of injury that could still cause the most harm to his friend.

He looked over to see CJ doing what he wished he could, but he found he was unable to move so he concentrated instead on CJ’s gentle strokes of Sam’s forehead and whispered words in his ears. “Tell him you’re here, Josh. He needs to hear your voice.”

Josh suddenly felt self-conscious. He bent down closer to the bed and placed his hand on Sam’s. 

“I’m here, Josh!”

The words, long forgotten amidst a foggy haze of pain and confusion suddenly came back to Josh with overwhelming clarity. He let go of Sam’s hand and placed his hand more firmly on his head instead. “I’m here, Sam.” Josh placed his hand over Sam’s. CJ mirrored his position on the other side of the bed and they stayed like that until the nurse came and told them it was time to go.

When the time came for them to go in again, CJ and Josh both looked at Toby but he shook his head and explained that he needed to phone Leo. CJ knew Josh was throwing her a loaded look but she ignored him. She didn’t need to start worrying about Toby yet, she only had enough strength to worry about Sam.

Sam’s mother arrived a few hours into the early morning. Josh thought she looked older than the last time he had seen her and was surprised when he realised that he had last seen her six years ago. She was obviously as oblivious to the passage of time as he was as she hugged him warmly on seeing him and let him comfort her as the composure she had maintained on the flight crumpled on seeing her son’s friend sitting on a hospital chair wearing scrubs and looking devastated.

She was introduced to CJ and Toby and told them she knew them already from Sam’s vivid descriptions and anecdotes. Josh explained that they had a room where they could sit but she didn’t move. Sam’s room was nearer to the waiting area and she preferred to stay there. 

“I should go home, get changed and head into work. Carol’s organised a briefing,” CJ said.

Josh nodded in response. He knew that he should go as well and the sight of the nurses trying to gain a response from Sam was one that Josh was glad he could escape. The doctor had said Sam wouldn’t be waking anytime soon anyway and Claire was here now, he wouldn’t be alone. “I’ll come with you.” He stood and walked past Toby who had made it clear a couple of hours ago that attempts to talk to him would not be welcome. Nonetheless, CJ walked over to him and made one last effort. “We’re going to head in. Carol’s got some news about the driver.”

Toby nodded but he didn’t look up. “Tell Leo I’ll be in later.”

CJ frowned. “I thought you phoned him earlier?”

Finally Toby looked up, an expression on his face that CJ couldn’t read. “Yeah, yes, I called Leo.” He looked down again. CJ waited a few moments before hurrying after Josh.

When he was sure they were gone, Toby let go of the breath he felt he had been holding since he had seen Sam’s car smashed into and hurled across the road. He bent forward and placed his head in his hands. He wanted to see Sam, needed to see him but the need to hide away and pretend this wasn’t happening was far greater. If he didn’t look at Sam he wouldn’t have to remember the words he had flung at him or the expression on Sam’s face as he had heard them. 

Josh went home before heading into work. He grabbed something to eat and then jumped in the shower. He let the water run over him and watched as it swirled away beneath his feet. He was surprised when the water turned a light red and realised the foam on his body was red too. He closed his eyes as he scrubbed Sam’s dry blood from his arms and only opened them when he was convinced the water would once again be running clear.


	4. Chapter 4

Donna was waiting for Josh when he arrived at his office. She was standing by her desk only half-aware of the conversation Charlie was having with Ginger. As soon as she saw Josh she walked up to meet him. They stood staring at each other for a moment before she moved closer and pulled him into a tight hug. Josh was rigid at first but then relaxed and let himself be comforted. He heard her tell him that Leo was waiting and then in a quieter voice, “I’m here too, don’t shut me out.” He nodded in reply, squeezed her arm gently and walked quickly towards his office, giving himself a moment to dump his coat and bag before the inevitable questions started.

“How is he?” Charlie asked as he walked along the corridor with him to Leo’s office.

“He’s not, er, he’s not doing too good.” Josh quickened his pace and wondered how many times he was going to be asked that question today. He glanced at Charlie and chastised himself for forgetting Sam was this man’s friend as well. He stopped walking and turned to face him. “He’s in a coma.”

Charlie nodded slowly as he registered the news. Despite his frequent calls to the hospital, even the President of the United States was denied certain information about a patient over the phone. As they neared the office, CJ met them and they walked in silence the rest of the way.

Leo was waiting for Josh. He was pretending to read some documents at Margaret’s desk but his thoughts were solely on Sam. He placed the papers down as CJ and Josh appeared; any pretence of being engaged with work immediately forgotten at the sight of his senior staff. “You all look exactly like you’ve just spent the night in the ER,” was his greeting and he beckoned them to follow him into his office. 

The President was standing at the window, hands in pockets and deep in thought. The sound of the door shutting made him turn around. A part of him still hoped that Josh was going to come bounding in saying it had all been a mistake, a case of mistaken identity and that all he would have to do today was make Charlie’s life miserable for waking him at one in the morning to tell him a man he didn’t know had been in a car crash. It was a futile, childlike hope though and the expression on Josh’s face made hope itself seem futile. “Sit down, Josh.” It wasn’t an order but a request born of the very real concern that if Josh didn’t take a seat he would soon be on the floor. 

The President listened as Josh and CJ told him all they knew. Occasionally he shook his head or stole a glance at Leo but other than that he remained silent. 

“His family?” Bartlet asked, immediately focusing on what they could do.

CJ explained that Sam’s mother was already at the hospital but they’d been unable to reach his father. Bartlet shook his head again and sighed deeply. Without realising it, Josh was waiting for some great words that would supply him with the courage to face what lay ahead or a meaningful phrase designed to inspire him to be the friend he hoped he could be. So he was a little disappointed when Bartlet rubbed at his face and said, ‘Crap’.

Josh frowned. “Crap?”

“Sorry, Josh, that’s all I have.” He stood and turned to CJ. “That’s not an official statement by the way.”

Despite the circumstances CJ smiled. “No, I probably would have checked that one.”

“Charlie’s keeping me informed. You do what you need to do. As long as the work’s covered I trust you all to juggle being here with being there for Sam. If there’s anything we can do for you on a personal level let me know, if there’s anything we can do on a practical level…well, let Leo know, he’s better at that stuff.”

CJ smiled again and nodded and Josh understood what was happening. There were no grand uplifting words, the situation was crap so what they had to do was what they did best; get on with it.

Bartlet walked towards the Oval Office but stopped and turned back. “I mean it about the personal stuff. We missed a lot with you Josh, we should have seen that coming. You’ve all been through a traumatic night and it’s not going to get any easier so you come to me or Leo if you need to talk, if you need anything.”

“And we’ll be mortified at the thought of ‘talking’ and refer you straight to Stanley,” Leo suggested which made everyone, including Josh, smile. “Now get to work, or in Josh’s case, I suspect, get to the hospital and be less useless there.”

Josh walked quickly back to his office. Leo’s suspicions were, as usual, correct. “What have I got?” Josh asked Donna who followed him through the door. 

“Brent at 10.00 has been cancelled. The Shore committee has to go ahead but you can go for 9.30 now you don’t have Brent. The interns are meeting with Ed and Larry and...well, you had a meeting booked with Sam at 12.00 so obviously...”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded. He walked over to his desk and quickly sorted through what he needed to take with him and what could be left for tomorrow. He grabbed a bottle of water, checked he had his pager and then headed for the door. Donna was in his path.

“Have you eaten?”

“Donna!” Josh tried to move past her.

“Have you eaten?”

“I had a banana,” Josh lied. 

“No you haven’t.” From out of nowhere, Donna produced a paper bag.

“You packed me lunch!” 

“I did, because I know when you’re giving me truth and when you’re giving me bananas.”

Josh shrugged. “It wasn’t a total lie. I have had a banana, just not today.”

Donna thrust the bag at him, told him to phone her as soon as there was any news and then stole a brief hug before her phone started ringing and Josh hurried on his way.

Donna gave lunch to Josh the next day and the day after that and as he ate it on the bench in the hospital grounds, Sam remained in a coma. Josh used the word unresponsive instead of coma. Sam, he had decided, was being very rude and ignoring everyone. It was late in the evening, three days after the accident, when Sam started to show signs of awareness. Josh and Sam’s mother had sat and watched as the nurses had tried to get a response. They shared the same strong belief that it was only a matter of time but it was still an amazing thing to witness the small but obvious movement Sam made in response to the nurse’s actions. Josh jumped out of his seat. “He moved! Did you see that? He moved. You moved, Sam!”

“Yes, he did,” the nurse agreed. “Sam, that was great. I want you to open your eyes for me. Can you open your eyes, please, Sam?”

Josh’s smile faded as Sam remained as he had been for the past few days. 

“It’s a good sign but it might take some time. Keep talking to him.” The nurse completed her notes on a chart and listened as Josh talked to Sam. She had found him a number of times sitting by the bed, reading from the newspaper, telling Sam what was happening at work or just talking about any subject that came into his head. She stole a glance at Sam’s mother who remained in her usual position on the left side of the bed, one hand on Sam the other stroking his hair. She didn’t talk as much as Josh but the nurse suspected Sam knew she was there all the same.

The news travelled fast. The first call was made to the Oval Office from where it travelled quickly around the West Wing. Over the next two days further updates followed; Sam has moved his arm; Sam has pushed the nurse’s hand away; Sam has mumbled; Sam has opened his eyes; Sam has tried to pull the wires from his arm; Sam has shouted at a doctor; Sam has smiled at his mother; Sam has talked to Josh. 

Toby heard all of this from Ginger who knocked gently on his closed office door before telling him the latest. The door was always closed again behind her and apart from the updates she tried to go in as seldom as possible. Toby clearly wanted to be left alone. He had not been to the hospital since the morning after the accident. He talked about work but any attempt to discuss what had happened was quickly quashed. Ginger could read Toby though. She could sense the immense relief he felt on hearing the updates and the dread that he couldn’t hide every time she knocked on his door.

Ginger told Carol, who told CJ, who shrugged in response. “I don’t have time to worry about Toby’s coping mechanisms. I’ve got...mechanisms of my own to deal with.”

Donna asked Ginger, who asked Bonnie, who asked Carol who asked CJ. 

“Is there something wrong with Toby?”

CJ frowned at the question. “No more than usual.”

“Seriously, CJ, he’s shut himself away, he’s shouting at people...well, he always does that, but he just doesn’t seem to be coping too well and people are-”

“People are what?” CJ demanded.

“People are wondering why he hasn’t been to see Sam yet.”

CJ was about to tell Carol that people should mind their own business but she knew Carol wasn’t just passing on gossip. She picked up her briefing notes and headed for the door. “Thanks. I’ll speak to him.”

Sam had mumbled at first and then shouted, pulled uselessly at wires and then, when he had told the doctor his name and that he thought he was in a hospital he closed his eyes and went to sleep. His mother walked out of the room and wept. 

Josh walked out of the room too and into the cool, morning air. He reached for his phone then waited impatiently for the answerphone message to finish. “He’s awake. He’s awake and I’m pretty sure he’ll want to see you so forget all this self-pity crap and get yourself down here!”

An hour later, CJ was relieved when she went to Toby’s office to find him gone. She was even more relieved when Ginger informed her that he had gone to see Sam.

Toby stood in the rickety elevator and willed it to breakdown before it reached the floor Sam was on. He had dreaded this moment but knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. Josh was wrong, of that he was convinced; he was the last person Sam would want to see. But maybe it was better this way. If everyone saw Sam’s reaction at least they would stop giving him strange looks and they would know why he didn’t want to visit Sam. 

Finally and despite his prayers, the elevator doors opened and he stepped reluctantly into the corridor. He could see Josh talking to a nurse and he walked slowly towards them. Josh caught sight of Toby and beckoned him over. “This is Judy, she’s going to marry me,” Josh announced. 

Judy was obviously quite used to Josh and totally ignored his comment as she greeted Toby. “I’m glad you’re here. Sam was just asking for you.”

The comment was an innocent one but Toby now felt even guiltier than he had before. Guilt was becoming quite an obsession with him.

“Go and see him,” Josh said and he pointed to the door to Sam’s room before turning away. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Toby had fully expected to find Claire Seaborn sitting by the bed and was surprised to find Sam alone. The room was in silence save for the steady beeps of the various machines. Sam was asleep or Toby assumed he was; his eyes were closed. He walked to the end of the bed and studied the chart hanging there as if he was a doctor. Finally he looked up and studied Sam. 

He had seen Sam asleep many times and always marvelled at how he seemed to look ten years younger. Sam didn’t look younger now though. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, one eye swollen closed. His arms lay prone beside him as if placed in that position by someone else, the wound on his head was covered and he seemed to be frowning. Sam was just asking for you. Toby thought again about the nurse’s words and decided that was something she said to everyone. Maybe a line reserved for visitors who really should have come earlier to make them feel better or guiltier. 

Toby shook his head at his increasingly nonsensical thoughts. Sam stirred slightly and moved his arm. Toby froze and waited for the movement to stop before summoning the courage to sit down on the chair beside the bed. He sat upright, tensed as if ready to bolt should Sam move again. When Sam did move he was agitated, trying to pull at the wire running across his face and Toby forgot any notion of leaving as he wrestled Sam’s hand back to its position by his side. It wouldn’t stay there though so Toby decided that holding it down was the only option. He sat in the silence that followed and watched as Sam’s chest rose and fell. He felt a slight squeeze on his hand and squeezed back.

Josh had eaten a large breakfast and was now sipping slowly at a bottle of water with a copy of the Washington Post on his lap. He would wait another ten minutes before going back to Sam’s room. He knew Toby was blaming himself and he knew he should be helping him with that but a part of him blamed Toby too. If he hadn’t said what he had Sam wouldn’t have got into his car, he would have been standing outside the restaurant still shouting at Toby when the other car ran the lights. Josh sighed and leant his head back against the chair. He knew all about misplaced guilt. He also knew Toby was in no way to blame for what had happened. He took a long swig of water and sighed again. Five minutes, he’d go back in five minutes. 

Toby watched as Sam shifted restlessly or as restlessly as the wires attached to him would allow. He held his breath when Sam’s eyes finally opened, staring straight up at the ceiling then closing again. A few moments later he opened them again and this time his gaze settled on Toby. There was no recognition though and the sight of Sam staring at him unnerved Toby.

Toby looked up as Josh appeared and crouched down on the other side of the bed. “Hey, Sam. You’re back with us again.” Sam turned away from Toby and the stare was replaced with a look of recognition. “Where am I?”

Toby listened as Josh explained to Sam where he was and what was happening. It was clear from the way he spoke that it was something he had said a number of times before.

“No one home...no one at home...where’s Nickleby?”

“He’s fine.”

“Who’s Nickleby?” Toby asked.

Josh’s gaze remained on Sam. “Toby wants to know who Nickleby is, Sam.”

As if only just aware there was someone else in the room, Sam turned his head to Toby. “My cat.” He looked away again though and returned his attention to Josh. “Where?”

“At your place. Your mom’s moving into your place, she’s going to look after things for you.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Don’t eat him.”

Toby’s eyes widened at the instruction and he shot Josh a worried glance but Josh calmly assured Sam that nobody was going to eat his cat as if it was a commonplace concern someone might have about their pet.

Josh looked at his watch and stood. He placed his hand on Sam’s and waited for him to look up at him. “I need to go but I’ll be back later. Your mom’s checking out of the hotel and then she’ll be back here, okay?” Sam continued to look up at him. “Okay, Sam?” A slow uncertain nod was his reply. “What’s your mom doing?”

Sam frowned, glanced at Toby and then back at Josh. “She’s moving...then she’ll be here”

“That’s right. So I’ll see you later. Toby will stay until your mom gets here.” Josh squeezed Sam’s hand and quickly left the room before Toby could object. It didn’t stop Toby following him though. He caught up with him at the elevator.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was like this?” Toby asked. “He doesn’t know who I am, you’re talking to him like he’s five years old and he thinks someone is going to eat his cat!”

“What did you think he would be like? He’s got a brain injury, Toby, we’re lucky he knows who any of us are and if you’d been here when he woke you’d know-” 

“Well I wasn’t here and I don’t think we need to go into that right now but I need to know what I’m supposed to do or say in there.” 

Josh stabbed impatiently at the call button. “You’re supposed to be a friend. You don’t need to do or say anything. You just need to sit with him.” The elevator pinged as the doors opened and Josh stepped in, glad that its arrival had stopped him saying anything else.

Toby turned towards Sam’s room. Since when had Sam had a cat? He walked over to the vending machine and looked half-heartedly at the choices. His mind was back on Sam’s cat though and why it bothered him so much that he didn’t know he had one. Sam could have four iguanas and a camel for all Toby cared. However, he did care. Watching Josh with Sam had made him realise that. He couldn’t be certain, and he didn’t like the notion at all, but Toby suspected he may actually have felt a little jealous. He waited for the cereal bar to fall from the machine and headed back to Sam’s room feeling none the better for his self-analysis.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam didn’t make any attempt to look at who had entered his room. He knew it wasn’t Josh or his mom and those were the only two people he could deal with. Other people confused him, asked him stupid questions, fiddled with equipment or caused him pain. Josh didn’t ask anything of him and when his mom was there he was safe. So, when Toby walked quietly into his room and took a seat by the side of his bed, he didn’t even open his eyes.

Toby cleared his throat and waited. He tried to think of something to say but feared the response Sam would give. He wanted to tell him he was sorry that he had shouted at him and said the things he had. He wanted Sam to be angry but then say something that only Sam would say and then, eventually, forgive him. Toby rubbed at his eyes and cleared his throat. “I er...I thought I’d stay until...” Sam eyes remained closed. “Would you like me to stay until your mom gets here?”

Sam opened his eyes and turned his head ever so slightly in Toby’s direction. “Where’s my mom?”

Toby hated seeing Sam confused and the fact that he had already forgotten what Josh had said worried him. “She’s moving her things into your place, remember?” 

Sam frowned and shook his head. “No, Josh is going to feed my cat.”

Toby scratched at his forehead and leant closer to the bed. “Josh has gone back to work. Your mom is going to move her things into your apartment and then she’s coming straight here.” Toby sat back when he saw Sam’s nod of agreement. It was as fascinating as it was unnerving witnessing this highly intelligent man struggling to remember what he’d been told moments before. Toby’s stomach flipped as he realised what else Sam might not be able to remember. He wondered if Sam retained the ridiculous amounts of trivia he knew. He wondered whether he could remember the last speech they had worked on, whether he could remember working with him at all. 

Sam turned his head further towards Toby and broke the silence that had settled uneasily in the room. “How are you?”

Toby’s eyebrows rose at the polite enquiry. “I’d be better if you weren’t in here.” Toby hoped Sam might be more lucid but his next question dashed any hope of that.

“How was your journey?”

“Um, well it was okay, you know, short...not much traffic.” Sam nodded. Toby wasn’t sure what was going on. He was very much out of his comfort zone. 

A doctor entered the room and Toby could have kissed him for saving him from any more questions. The doctor introduced herself and then focused on Sam. “How are you feeling, Sam? Any pain?”

Sam shook his head. “How are you?” The doctor told Sam she was fine and then looked at the chart on the end of the bed. “How was your journey?”

“I work here, Sam, so I come here every day. I get the metro.”

Sam frowned and then looked at Toby. “Where’s my mom?”

This was more like it, Toby could handle straightforward questions like this. “She’s going to be here soon. Do you remember what Josh said?”

“They won’t eat my cat?”

“Erm, no...not that...er, do you remember what he said about your mom?”

Sam frowned again. Not the frown Toby knew when he was struggling to come up with a word or find a way into a sentence but a frown born of true confusion and frustration. “She’s here?”

“No, she’s not but she’ll be here soon. She’s moving her things to your place and then she’s-” Toby realised Sam wasn’t listening to him. He was staring at the ceiling.

“Why am I here?”

Toby rubbed at his chin and began. “You were in an accident. You’re in the hospital...” 

Josh tapped his pen on the desk then tried once more to get the ink to flow before cursing and throwing it across the room. 

“Ouch!” CJ bent down and picked up the missile. “Shall I come back in and see if you can hit me with your full armoury?”

Josh leant back in his chair and stretched his arms until the tense muscles protested. “Sorry, I was aiming for the trashcan.”

“Oh.” She flung the pen in the direction of the bin. A clanking sound followed and Josh pretended not to be impressed with her effortless aim. “So, you’re here.”

“I am.”

“And Toby’s not, so I’m hoping that means he’s at the hospital.”

“He is, or at least he was when I left.” Josh walked over to the door and closed it. “He wasn’t too happy...you know, for Toby.”

CJ studied her friend. “And neither are you.”

Josh smiled, the first genuine one of the day. He sat down and waited for CJ to sit too. “I’m okay.” He sighed and then laughed at CJ’s cynical expression. “I’m okay considering,” Josh expanded and leant forward on the table. “When he woke up it was...you know, after all the waiting and the signs that he was coming out of it, it was great...but then...”

“Go on.”

“He was Sam, he knew me, he was groggy obviously but it’s like he’s not the Sam we know or maybe the Sam who knows us. He can’t remember the accident-”

“Good, I wish I couldn’t.”

“Yeah.” Josh ran a hand through his hair and then straightened. “The doctor said it’s a waiting game now, we just have to wait and see what damage has been done. The swelling’s stopped, that’s a good thing.” CJ waited for Josh to continue. It was rare for him to open up. She knew he was going to have to be there for Sam and so she was determined that she would be there for him. “You ever see one of those films where some guy wakes up from a coma and can’t remember who he is or what his life was like? I thought when Sam woke up he’d either know all that stuff or he wouldn’t but it’s not like that. I had to tell him five times where he was and why. He can’t remember anything you tell him.” Josh looked down and shook his head. “God, CJ, what if he’s not...”

“Not what?”

“Not Sam anymore.”

CJ shook her head and then shrugged. “I can’t say anything to make you feel better, Josh, it frightens the hell out of me too.”

“Would you like to pretend to make me feel better?”

“Okay.” CJ relaxed back in the chair and thought. “Have you got anymore pens? I could throw another one in the trash without looking if you like.”

Josh handed her a pen. “Wait!” He walked over to the trashcan and moved it further back against the wall. CJ closed her eyes and flipped the pen into the air. At the sound of it falling into the bottom of the metal bin she opened her eyes and cocked her head to the side. “I should maybe look into this hitherto undiscovered talent.”

“I’m not sure it has a use.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

Josh nodded. “A little but I don’t think I could rely on it in the long-term.”

“Let’s just concentrate on the short-term then.” 

“You’re talking about Sam again now aren’t you?”

She nodded and stood and to his surprise reached forward and gave him an unexpected but welcome hug before leaving.

Josh returned to his desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out another pen. He started to write but then stopped. He aimed carefully and then let it go. He opened the drawer again. Best of five he decided.

Toby was choosing similar odds for the likelihood of Sam getting his name right. So far, he had called him Tony, Tim, Dad, Lenny and Jed. He had then stared at the ceiling, asked where he was again. If Toby had felt out of his comfort zone before, he felt completely at a loss now to know what to do or say.

“He’s very confused,” a nurse reassured him as if reading his thoughts. “Tomorrow he might be a little more lucid.”

“I’ll just be happy if he knows my name.” 

“That’s the best way; take each day as it comes.” She patted his shoulder and left. Toby preferred it when the nurses and doctors were around. At least then, Sam had someone else to ask where he was.

Josh had decided at three o’clock that he’d left Toby alone for long enough. He hoped that it had been enough time for Toby to move on from whatever issues had stopped him visiting Sam in the first place. He hoped he would have Toby to help him through whatever was coming next. A part of him knew he was hoping in vain as Toby had somehow reached the conclusion that he was responsible for what had happened to Sam.

The taxi driver told Josh the fare again and Josh realised the car had pulled up outside the hospital. He paid and got out of the cab. What had started as a cloudy day was now a sweltering one and Josh took a few moments in the cool of the lobby before making his way up to the ICU. 

He briefly wondered about confronting Toby but had a feeling he knew how that would turn out. Josh was no stranger to guilt. For most of his life it had consumed him. After seeing Stanley he’d realised he had other issues to deal with and Stanley had recommended a friend. Stanley’s friend was very good. Josh felt little guilt now. He’d spent three sessions making sure he felt no guilt about Sam either. Guilt, he decided was a useless emotion but one that he feared was making itself very much known to Toby. 

He peered through the door before entering Sam’s room. He felt relieved and a little proud of himself to see Toby still sitting by the bed. He was sitting with one hand laying on the bedcover close to Sam’s. Sam looked peaceful, asleep once more and unaware of how ill at ease the man beside him was. Josh couldn’t help but smile as Toby pushed his hand further through the bars and awkwardly patted Sam’s arm. 

Josh coughed lightly and then entered the room. “How is he?”

“Asleep and when he’s not asleep he’s asking me where he is or calling me Tim.”

Josh nodded and pulled a chair up to the other side of the bed. “I just spoke to the doctor and he said they’re talking about moving Sam to the Neuro ICU.”

“Good. That’s...good.” Toby didn’t really know if that was good or not but Josh’s tone implied it was. The silence which followed was broken by the sudden whir of the automatic blood pressure cuff. 

Toby withdrew his hand from the bed and rubbed at his eyes. “Earlier, I was...I didn’t know what to expect. It threw me seeing Sam like this.”

Josh shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I guess it was more gradual for me as I’ve been here.” He hadn’t meant it would have been easier for Toby if he had been here but Toby’s expression made it clear that was how he had taken the words. 

Sam opened his eyes and both men were grateful for the distraction. Sam looked at the ceiling first then he frowned. He frowned a lot recently. Josh waited for Sam’s gaze to roam the room before settling on him. A brief glance was all Toby received. Toby tried not to show how hurt he was at Sam’s dismissal. Sam was ill, confused, it didn’t mean anything. 

Josh leant closer to the bed and before Sam could ask, he told him where he was. 

“I timed that well.” Claire Seaborn entered the room and placed her coat and bag on a chair before walking over to stand behind Josh. 

Sam looked at her and then smiled. “You moved my house!” 

“Nearly, honey, nearly. I moved my things into your place. I’m staying there now and looking after Nickleby.”

“Who are you?” Sam asked and Toby was relieved on following Sam’s gaze to discover his question was aimed at a doctor who had just entered the room and not him.

“It’s really only meant to be two at a time,” he noted of the number of visitors. Josh immediately disliked him. 

The doctor made a point of moving around Josh and Claire to reach the bed. “Sam, I’m Doctor Crawt. I know Doctor Reed has spoken to you today about the injury to your ankle. Can you tell me how much pain it’s causing you?”

“Yes.” Sam replied. He could tell the doctor that. He liked this doctor he asked simple questions.

“Ah, well, Sam, could you tell how much? Let’s say five is pain you can cope with and ten is too much pain.”

“Five.” Sam answered decisively. 

“Okay that’s good. You just let us know if it’s more than that. We’re pleased with how your ankle is healing. For a while we thought you might lose it.”

It was almost comical the furtive way Sam looked down at the bottom of the bed to check his ankle was still there.

“No, Sam, not lose it in that sense.” Doctor Crawt scratched at his forehead. He was a first-rate surgeon but he’d never been comfortable with patients when they weren’t under anaesthetic. 

Sam nodded and forced a smile. He could tell the news was making everyone else smile so he thought it best to join in. 

Toby decided he’d had enough of smiling and now that Claire and Josh were here he could go without feeling guilty. “I’m going back to work.” He picked up his coat and folded it over his arm. “I’ll see you later, Josh. Claire.” He turned back to the bed. “Bye, Sam.”

“Goodbye, Tom.”


	6. Chapter 6

Leo shook his head and then carried on reading the article about Daniel Kelly. When he was finished he tore the page out of the paper, threw it in the trash and started on the crossword.

In his kitchen, Josh was also reading the article. He mumbled a curse about Daniel Kelly’s sister who was stating that Sam was driving erratically and then ran the lights leaving her brother no time to do anything. Josh shook his head and laughed a short snort that showed exactly what he thought of her version. He wondered why she had bothered as there were plenty of witnesses. There were also witnesses who had seen Kelly drinking earlier that evening at a nearby bar. Josh spent a brief moment reflecting on how the accident would have affected Kelly’s family. It was fleeting though, he couldn’t really care less. It was his friend who was in the hospital not even able to remember why he was there.

Leo had completed the crossword. He didn’t always do it but Margaret always knew when he had.

“You’ve wearing your crossword smile.”

“What’s my crossword smile for crying out loud?” Leo threw his coat over a chair and Margaret removed it and hung it up.

“The one you’re wearing now. It means you finished the crossword.”

“So what sort of expression do I have when I, No, I’m not going to have this conversation.”

“Okay.”

“I have to have enough conversations I don’t want to have without having ones with you about my smile.”

“Okay.” Margaret waited for Leo to finish reading his messages. “Would you like a bagel?”

Leo peered at her over the top of his glasses. “If I say yes, are you going to tell me I have a ‘ooh good a bagel’ smile?”

“No.”

“Well, okay then, I would like a bagel.” He returned to his messages and only when he’d placed them neatly back on the desk did he look up and notice Toby standing in the doorway. “Toby.”

“Leo.” Toby entered the room and stood by the sofa. 

“Nice as it of you to drop by, was there anything in particular you needed?”

Toby put his hands in his pockets and walked nearer to the desk. “Yes.”

Leo waited. Toby walked away from the desk. “And the particular thing would be...”

“Sam.”

“You need Sam?”

“No, well, yes, well...” Toby laughed at himself before Leo beat him to it. “The President’s got two big speeches next month, I’ve already handed over most of Sam’s work to Ed and Larry, we’re two staff members down on the speechwriting team as it is and I can’t see how we’re going to get this done in time if we don’t-”

“You need a replacement for Sam,” Leo concluded before Toby could ramble on any further. His suggestion was met with an adamant denial and he realised he had used the wrong word in ‘replacement’. 

“Just someone to fill in, that’s all. When Sam’s back we’ll maybe use whoever we find permanently on the staff but just someone to cover for now.”

“And if Sam doesn’t come back?”

“You want me to plan for something that isn’t going to happen?” 

Leo sat back and studied Toby. “I want you to think about what we’re going to do if we have to replace Sam, yes.”

Toby shook his head and started to pace. “I’m not going to do that! Sam not coming back isn’t an option. He’ll get better, he’ll rest and then he’ll come back. That’s what’s going to happen, Leo!” More head shaking and more pacing. “Replace Sam! Did you think about replacing Josh when he was in the hospital? How long did you give him before you started looking through CVs?”

“I’ll let that one go but you better get your head around this, Toby. Sam has brain damage. He may, God willing, come out the other end the Sam we know but he may not and while we’re waiting to find out you need to accept what’s happening. You’re his boss so make sure his work is covered. We both know you’re not going to find anyone even half way as good but find someone. Then, when you’ve done that maybe you can get rid of all this denial and guilt crap and get around to being his friend.”

“Denial and guilt?”

“I believe the phrase I used was denial and guilt crap but, yes.”

Toby nodded slowly. The two men looked at each other before Toby looked away and down at his feet. “Denial and guilt,” he muttered to himself. He looked up at Leo. “I’m sorry about the Josh thing.”

It was Leo’s turn to nod. “Get me a list of names by the end of the day.” He watched Toby walk out of the office his absence quickly filled by Margaret who walked up to his desk and placed a bagel on it. “Guess what expression I’ve got on now. This is my ‘Josh was right about Toby’ face.”

“You don’t do that one very often.”

“Nope.” He reached for the bagel and enjoyed the few moments of peace in which he had to eat it.

Josh knew something had happened between Leo and Toby. There was a definite atmosphere during the morning’s meeting and he had a feeling it had something to do with him. He’d had meetings all morning and only now in his fifteen minutes lunch break had he found time to get to his office. He was eating a sandwich and scrolling through some information on a website. He was ten minutes into his research and had already concluded that Sam was on level four of The Ranchos Los Amigos level of cognitive functioning scale.  
Purposeful attempts to remove restraints or tubes or crawl out of bed. Yep, Josh nodded, definitely level four. Unable to cooperate with treatment efforts. Josh winced as he remembered the struggle they’d had to let the doctor look at Sam’s wrist. He remembered Claire’s face, red with embarrassment at the language her son was using, and Sam’s useless attempts to strike out at the doctor. He had gone before they restrained them. He could cope with many things but watching his friend tied down to his hospital bed wasn’t one of them.  
He copied the rest of the information and saved it then turned to look out of his window and finish his sandwich.

“Toby’s coming.” Donna’s sudden entrance startled him and he swung around losing what was left of his sandwich in the process. “I told you I was hiding from Toby!”

“Yes, and I told you not to stay at the hospital too late.”

“And your revenge is not helping me hide from Toby.”

“Yes Josh, that, and getting to watch when Toby finds you.”

Josh reached down for the sandwich wrapper, the idea of hiding under his desk struck him but he knew Donna would only show Toby where he was so resignedly he straightened, crumpled the wrapper and threw it away. 

Donna only needed to take one look at Toby to realise that staying to watch would not be a good idea. She threw Josh a sincere apologetic look and closed the door behind her.

“What have you been saying to Leo?”

“Hello, Toby, how are you?”

“You heard the question, Josh. I’m not in the mood for pleasantries. What have you said to him?”

“Why do you think I’ve said anything? Leo’s a pretty astute guy he can draw his own conclusions.” Whilst he spoke, Josh gathered some papers and his bag. He was ready to make good his escape when he realised he couldn’t find his car keys. 

“Does Leo think there’s some sort of problem with me?”

Josh patted his pockets and then opened his bag. “No more than usual.”

“Josh! For God’s sake!” The volume of his voice was enough to make both Josh, and Donna outside, jump.

Josh held his hands up. “Okay, okay. I haven’t said anything to Leo that he won’t have gathered for himself from the way you’re acting which, by the way, includes unwarranted verbal assaults on your colleagues. I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re not ready to hear anything I have to say about Sam right now. You know you’re pissing everyone off with the way you’re behaving around here. You don’t need me or Leo to tell you that.”

Toby looked like he was going to reply but then he sighed and sagged forward. Slowly he straightened and then perched on the edge of Josh’s desk. “Leo wants me to come up with a list of possible replacements for Sam.”

“Yeah. You need to do it. It’s not tempting the wrath of the high thing, it’s just something you have to do.”

“Yeah.” Toby nodded and looked at his shoes. They must have been fascinating as he continued to stare at them while he spoke. “I’m having a few problems dealing with...” he waved his hand in the air, “the thing with Sam.”

“Are we playing that game where you talk about a medical condition without actually using any of the words that describe it?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the clock. “You need to go.” Toby stepped forward to reveal Josh’s car keys on the floor behind him. “Remember, don’t give Ellison what he wants. Use the GNI report if you have to.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll catch up when I get back. You might like to practise your brain injury vocabulary while I’m gone.”

“Okay, this ‘moment’ is now officially over.” Toby walked out of the office and stopped at Donna’s desk. “You might want to make a note of the fact that Josh has actually just been quite helpful. I know you probably keep a record of anything out of the ordinary.” He walked away and Donna looked up at Josh. She wouldn’t make him coffee but she might just give him a hug at some point later on.

Nickleby was without a doubt, Sam’s cat. Anyone else would do for providing food and the occasional warm lap but it was clearly Sam that Nickleby was hoping would walk through the door. Claire had learnt this after coming into Sam’s apartment a number of times and seeing Nickleby jump off the sofa, race to the door, stare at her as if she was the biggest disappointment known to cats and then return to the sofa without a second glance. Claire was sitting next to the standoffish cat, finishing her dinner before she returned to the hospital. The only time she could really get away to sleep, eat or change clothes was when Josh was there. Sam didn’t seem to cope too well if she or Josh weren’t there so Josh had insisted that they arrange some definite times that he would be there so she could have some time away. The plan hadn’t been too successful, she was invariably called back to the hospital the first few times and she was still reluctant to leave for any length of time. 

She sat now and pushed her half-empty plate away knowing she would return long before she was expected. She leant back against the sofa and closed her eyes. She felt movement next to her and then the slight weight of Nickleby as he slowly climbed onto her lap. He sniffed at her hand for a moment, stared at her and then turned around and curled into a ball. “I’ll do until Sam comes home will I?” She closed her eyes again and decided that maybe she would stay a little longer after all.

There were fewer tubes and wires now, Josh noted. The one he was most pleased to see gone was the one attached to Sam’s head. He couldn’t really remember what that had been for but he’d hated the sight of it. Sam’s eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep. Josh knew he was in pain. He could tell by the tension in Sam’s face and the way his hand squeezed Josh’s every so often. For some reason the hospital at night didn’t bring back so many memories of his recovery for Josh as it did in the day. He made a mental note to tell Donna that the next time she lectured him about not being able to look after Sam if he was exhausted himself.

Sam shifted slightly and the movement must have caused the pain to worsen as he let out a small moan and turned his head away from Josh. “It’s okay, Sam, I know it hurts. Only a little while and they’ll fill you up with the good stuff again.” Josh remembered very well the agonising wait for pain meds. Sam pulled his hand out of Josh’s and placed it on his face instead. It was only when Josh saw his shoulders shaking that he realised what was happening. He reached over and took Sam’s hand again holding it firmly in his own. “Don’t hide from me. I told you, I know what it’s like.” He saw Sam’s head nod and slowly turn to face him again. Josh couldn’t bring himself to look at Sam’s ankle. Even the thought of it made him cringe and the image of it as the car bonnet had been pulled away was one he was trying very hard to rid himself of. Sam had been on morphine for the pain to start with but Claire had told him the doctor had said that was ending today and Sam would be on regular doses of pain meds. They weren’t working as well as the morphine that was for sure. 

Toby watched from the doorway. He felt like an intruder. He turned to go but walked straight into a nurse. “Sorry! Are you coming in or going out?” she asked when Toby stood motionless in the doorframe. 

“In,” Josh answered for him and Toby found himself ushered into the small room. He stood at the end of the bed and watched the drug administered and Sam quickly showing the benefits of it. The frown left his face, his hand eased its tight hold of Josh’s and his other hand fell slowly away from his face and onto the bed.

“There,” Josh said more to himself than Sam. He looked up and gestured for Toby to sit down. The nurse worked silently around them then left the room. Sam’s eyes closed and he drifted easily into a pain free slumber. 

“At least I won’t have to listen to him call me Tom,” Toby noted of Sam’s response to his arrival.


	7. Chapter 7

The days passed slowly but brought with them small steps in Sam’s recovery. His visitors didn’t notice the change as much as Josh, Claire and the doctors, who were aware of every sign of progress no matter how small. Josh had become adept at reading Sam, a skill that he thought he already possessed. Now though he could tell when Sam was pretending to be fine for the benefit of his visitors. He could tell when he was pretending to remember something and when he was truly recalling a name or incident. This was no mean feat as Sam’s mood swings were sudden and alarming. Some visitors were treated to an attentive, polite Sam who would nod in all the right places and say what he thought was expected of him. Others would see Sam with no pretence and knew he was too tired to talk or not following the conversation. 

Bartlet’s intention to visit Sam was quashed with such passion by Leo and CJ that for once he was left speechless and he dropped the subject with only a tentative agreement that if Sam agreed, he would visit him once he was settled at the rehab unit. CJ wasn’t sure how Sam would be if the President visited but she was positive that he would be mortified if he knew the President had seen him in any of the various states she had witnessed.

Visits had been organised in a way that meant there was no day that someone from the West Wing didn’t see Sam. Bartlet focused on practical tasks like making Charlie responsible for looking after Claire Seaborn. The hunt for Sam’s father had ended when Claire announced that she had spoken to him. 

“Don’t think bad of him. He just can’t cope with things like this. He’d be no use here. It’s much better that he’s where he is.” Josh was surprised at Claire’s defence of him. If it had been his dad he would have been on the first available flight to his son’s side. Then again, his father wouldn’t have been so estranged from him that all the numbers he had for him at work were months out of date. Josh gave him some credit for ending his two-month holiday in India to take care of Claire’s business for her. Sam never asked for him anyway.

Even though Josh was studying Sam’s progress, he was surprised when the doctors announced that he was ready to be moved to the Neuro floor. This meant that he was ready to be looked after by a team of neurologists and that his move to rehab and eventual move home was a step closer.

“Remind me again, what’s the Neuro floor?” CJ asked Josh as she divided the pizza and handed a slice to Toby.

“It’s where the Neurologists work,” Josh replied hoping that would be an end of it and regretting saying that what he didn’t know about brain injury wasn’t worth knowing.

CJ pulled a string of cheese from the edge of her slice. “So how does neurology differ from a neuropsychology?”

“Leave him alone, CJ,” Toby warned and hid his smile at Josh’s discomfit behind a long sip of his beer.They ate in silence for a while, celebrating Sam’s move to the new unit.

“I’ve got some good news,” Toby announced. “Daniel Kelly was driving without a licence. This makes him what the District of Columbia calls a hardcore drunk driver. He’s looking at up to a year in jail.”

“It’s not enough,” Josh said reaching for his beer. “The sentence should be that he stays in prison until Sam’s home and back to normal which, you know, for Sam would be never.”

CJ nodded. “Well, it’s better than nothing and also if he’s behind bars at least I won’t have to worry about trying to spin Toby murdering him.” 

Toby looked suitably affronted by her comment and then settled back into his chair and looked at his friends. Josh was putting on a good act but Toby knew that the strain was starting to tell. CJ too was putting on an act; they all were. She had certainly appointed herself Josh’s guardian, or guardian angel, Toby wasn’t sure which moniker was most fitting. He took a slow sip of the beer which, although not chilled was better than the coffee he had been drinking for most of the day. Beneath the table, his briefcase lay at his feet. Slipped inside, in-between drafts and reports was a jotter. He would wait until no one else was around and would give it to Sam. He knew he shouldn’t, that it wasn’t fair or reasonable, but he had to know for sure. He had to know if his friend was still a writer.

About the time that Toby was plotting to give the jotter to Sam without Claire or Josh finding out, Sam was doing some plotting of his own. With the aid of crutches, he was now able to bear putting some weight on his leg and so began what Josh called the Colditz period of Sam’s recovery. Although Sam could appear childlike in his thoughts and actions, he was certainly proving he still had plenty of what he would have proudly termed cunning and guile. His belief that he was being held prisoner and that the doctors were not really doctors at first amused Josh but when Sam made it as far as the elevator, he began to understand why the nurses were so adamant that he didn’t humour Sam when he talked about escaping or the bogus medical staff.

“What are you doing?”

Josh looked up from the computer screen to find Toby standing in the doorway. “I’m just checking out a...” Josh took in Toby’s expression. “Why? What am I meant to be doing?”

“You’re meant to be meeting with me! Ten minutes ago. And why aren’t you answering your cell?”

“I only tend to do that when someone actually calls me.” Josh reached into his pocket but found only a used tissue. He searched through his jacket and then started to look on the desk and in drawers. “I had it this morning. I can’t lose my cell!”

On cue came the sound of a phone. Toby glanced at the name on the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Josh asked of Toby’s hesitance. 

“Nothing much, except, according to this, you’re ringing me on your cell right now.” He flipped the phone open and waited for the caller to speak first. Josh watched as Toby’s expression became even more incredulous. “Sam, what are you doing with Josh’s phone? No, no I can’t come and get you...no, Sam, listen...Sam, listen to me! You’re in hospital, you need to stay there. The nurses and doctors are good people, Sam, they’re looking after you. No, give the phone to a nurse...no he’s not mad. Why would he be mad? Okay, well it probably wasn’t a good idea to call him...or him...or her...” 

Josh watched as Toby paced, his free hand rubbing his forehead. He tried to think how Sam could have gotten hold of his cell and could only assume that he’d taken it from his pocket when he’d laid his jacket on the bed. Finally, Toby persuaded Sam to hang up then called Donna in and told her to phone the hospital and make sure they took the phone away.

“Hey, phone Nazi! Sam can have a phone. It’s good that he can call us up if he wants to chat,” Josh protested.

“Do you know who else Sam called to have a chat with today?” 

Josh shook his head. 

“Well, think of some of the names in your phonebook.”

“Oh,” Josh said as he realised Toby had a point, “Oh,” he repeated more expressively when he started to think of the contacts on his phone. “You should probably call the hospital, Donna, tell them to get my phone off Sam.” Josh said, managing to make a good idea, which he had initially disagreed with, sound like his own.

It took most of a nurse’s shift and all of Claire’s patience to persuade Sam to give them the phone. Afterwards, he wouldn’t talk to his mom or any of the doctors. Claire knew it wouldn’t last for long. He would soon forget he ever had the phone at all.

She was right. By the time Leo entered Sam’s room later that afternoon, Sam had forgotten all about it. He smiled when Leo entered and gestured to the chair beside his bed. Claire introduced herself and then watched silently.

“It’s good of you to come.”

Leo waved at the air dismissing Sam’s comment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. You’re looking good, Sam.”

“I’m feeling good. The doctor said my ankle’s healing well.”

“Good, that’s good. Toby and Josh aren’t bothering you about work are they?”

“Never mention it. It’s been banned I think.”

Claire nodded. “No work talk allowed.”

“Well, that’s me done for conversation then!” 

Sam laughed at the remark and Leo marvelled at how well he seemed. He had visited during the first days after the accident but he was pretty sure Sam wouldn’t remember much about that. He couldn’t understand some of the things Josh had been telling him. Sam seemed like his normal self. “I hear you’re being moved to a different floor soon?”

Sam nodded. “The neuro floor. It’s because I’m getting better.”

Claire saw it at last, a flicker of uncertainty cross Leo’s face. It was the way Sam had spoken, almost as if the words were a learnt phrase, something a nervous child might say about moving up to Kindergarten; it’s because I’m getting bigger.

“Well, that’s good, Sam. I’m really pleased about that.”

Sam nodded again. There was a pause. Claire sighed.

“It’s good of you to come.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“The doctor says my ankle’s healing well.”

Claire excused herself and left the room.

After Leo had repeated more or less the whole conversation, he left, promising Sam he would visit again soon. He glanced down the corridor before entering the elevator just in time to see Claire returning to the room. 

Away from Sam, she let the weariness she felt show. Leo let the elevator go and hurried over to her. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back.”

“No, it was good of you come.” She realised what she had said and rolled her eyes. They both laughed at her unintentional mimicking of Sam. “I don’t know how much Josh has told you. I should have warned you perhaps?”

“I have to tell ya, I didn’t know what to expect but I didn’t expect that. He seemed so with it but then he just went through the whole conversation again. He was heading for a third run at it before I left.”

Claire shook her head. “That’s the hardest thing, watching people visit him and seeing their reaction. He puts on a good show but it takes all his energy.” She suddenly straightened aware that she was leaning against the wall. She brushed at her skirt and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I, on the other hand, am not putting on a very good show at all!”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Leo may have been referring to how Claire was staying strong for her son but there was something in the way Leo smiled at her that caused, to her great embarrassment, her cheeks to redden. 

“Oh, well...anyway. It was good of you to come and I’m grateful for all you’ve done for Sam and me and allowing Josh to spend time at the hospital. I know it’s time he doesn’t really have.”

“You think I could have stopped him!” They both laughed. They knew Josh well. Leo shook Claire’s hand and again promised that he would return. Claire returned to Sam’s room, the snack she had grabbed had made her feel slightly better but her encounter with Leo had done her much more good. 

When Toby arrived, she stayed until Sam was asleep before leaving. It was hard to get away if he was awake. She whispered her goodbyes and crept out of the room. 

Cards and gifts covered the top of a cupboard. Toby had read them all but he went over and read the new additions to the collection. He walked over to the window and looked down at the scene below. The ambulance bay was just to the left and he watched two arrive, the first with lights flashing and at breakneck speed. He returned to his seat and picked up the patient’s information pamphlet that had been on top of the book.

Regulatory agencies prohibit inpatients from entering the cafeteria or gift shop. Due to safety, risk management and patient care concerns patients are prohibited from leaving the building for any reasons except to obtain scheduled medical services while escorted by hospital personnel.

Toby shook his head and thought it was no wonder Sam thought he was being held against his will. He pulled the drawer open and put the leaflet in there. A piece of paper was taped to the side of the nightstand facing the bed. Toby turned it towards him.

Sam, you are in hospital because you’ve hurt your head. You have to stay here so that you can get better and go home. Don’t be cross at the doctors and nurses and don’t swear! I love you. Mom.

The second note was from Josh.

Sam, don’t try to escape! You’re in hospital and you’re safe. You’re not in prison! The doctors are helping you. They really are doctors. I asked the secret service to check them out. You’re safe, buddy, don’t worry! Josh. 

Toby flattened the piece of paper back down making sure it was facing Sam’s bed. He wondered when they had been written and whether Sam read them every time he woke as if for the first time. He felt a pang of regret for not being as involved as Josh with Sam’s recovery. He bitterly regretted not coming to visit Sam in the early days. He wished that he could separate what he had said to Sam the night of the accident from the accident itself but they were intrinsically linked in his mind. If he had not said what he had, Sam would have stayed and they’d probably have gone back into the bar. It would have been a painful experience of drinking and not talking but they’d have done it nonetheless. However, Sam hadn’t stayed, he looked at Toby as if he’d just had the air punched out of him and then got into his car. 

I don’t think he’ll regret it. I think he’s been wanting to say that for some time.

More than his own words to Sam, Sam’s reply haunted him. Was it true? Had he been dissatisfied with Sam’s work? One evening he had even pulled out a file of drafts and studied the comments he had made on Sam’s work. He had quickly realised that if he wanted to prove to himself that Sam knew he valued him, then that wasn’t the way to do it. He was amazed at the caustic tone of some of his comments until he found a draft on which Sam had answered every single comment using an equally caustic tone.

No. Toby shook his head and sighed. He wasn’t dissatisfied with Sam’s work. He probably didn’t let Sam know that as often as he should but Sam wasn’t a child, he didn’t need his hand held or a sticker every time he got it right. Toby sighed again and gave up trying to think straight. His head had been aching since lunchtime and trying to solve a problem that he didn’t fully understand wasn’t helping. He cut the memories off before they ventured any further. He didn’t need to replay them during the day, he had more than enough of reliving them at night. He let his head fall backwards against the chair and winced at the sound of bones creaking. When he raised it, it was to the sight of Sam staring at him. 

“Toby,” Sam announced more by way of confirming to himself that he had the name right than of greeting.

“Did I wake you?”

Sam shook his head and then looked at the empty chair by the other side of the bed. Toby realised Sam was about to embark on another Abbot and Costello conversation concerning where his mom was so he quickly tried to divert Sam’s attention to something else. “Do you have anything to read?”

Sam’s gaze stayed on the chair then he slowly turned towards Toby. “Read? You want to borrow a book?”

“No, I meant do you have enough to read, books, magazines?”

“Oh. Well, I do have...” he leant dangerously over the side of the bed and reached for a book that had fallen to the floor. “This is a book.”

Toby took it and studied the cover. Galapagos- Islands Born of Fire. He flicked through the pages stopping to study a few. 

“I like the pictures,” Sam stated simply and smiled.

Toby, taken aback by the sudden moisture in his eyes, just nodded and kept his gaze on the book.

“Galápago." 

“I’m sorry?” Toby closed the book and looked at Sam.

“Galápago. It’s an old Spanish word. The large tortoises on some of the islands had a shell that looked like a saddle so that’s what the Spanish explorers named them.”

“Does it say that in the book?”

“No, I just know it. We had to make two tortoises out of sock puppets at school once. We had a cactus in a pot and two tortoises. The one with the saddle-backed shell could reach the cactus and the one with the shorter neck couldn’t. I wrote an essay on what that proved and got a...I can’t remember what I got, I think I got to keep the sock-puppets.”

Toby didn’t know what to say. Instead, he opened the book at a section of illustrations and handed it to Sam. Sam dutifully took it and started to flip through the pages, occasionally offering more Galapagos trivia. Toby wondered if the doctors had heard Sam spouting random facts and marked it down as a stage in his brain’s recovery. Of course it wasn’t: for Sam it was normal. 

After a while, when Sam’s attention had wandered from the book and it lay forgotten on his lap, Toby reached into his bag and pulled out the jotter. He placed it on top of the book. “I was thinking you could maybe, you know.” Sam clearly didn’t know. Toby cleared his throat and started again. “I was thinking you could maybe do some writing about, well, whatever you wanted. I just thought it might kill some time for you...or something.”

Sam fingered the spiral bound back of the book and nodded slowly. He was confused by the gift but he had the feeling that he was supposed to understand it. “Good idea,” he said. 

“I’ll put it in here with your other book.” Where Josh and your mom won’t see it, he thought. He wanted to ask Sam if he remembered writing for the President, if he knew what a great writer he was. Instead, he told him to try to get to sleep and then stayed with him until he did.


	8. Chapter 8

His pen moved slowly at first, stilted strokes scattered over the page. Then, with more confidence, the strokes started to form shapes and sometimes letters. Claire watched Sam’s look of fierce concentration as he turned to a clean page. His expression reminded her of when he was a boy, trying to fix a broken toy or finish some schoolwork so he could go back outside before it got dark. Instinctively, she reached forward and pushed the bangs away from his face. “What are you writing, honey?”

Sam looked up, almost in surprise at her presence by his bed. “Nothing.” He returned his gaze to the pad. “Toby wants me to write.”

“Did he say that?” Claire asked frowning.

Sam shrugged. “He said I might like to write something...if I was bored...I could write something.”

“Oh, okay.” She tried to peer over the top of the book but Sam had pulled it towards him defensively. "Did Toby suggest what you should write?”

Sam shook his head, with a flourish he drew a line under his words and then passed the pad to Claire. She worried the edge of the page as she read. 

Dear Mom,  
Can you please tell the doctors that I am okay now and would like to go home? I am very well and my ankle is okay too. Josh is worried and making you worry too but you don’t need to because I am fine and want to go home now, please. Also, I don’t like it here and you said I was moving to a different place but I haven’t. Also, I don’t believe that Nickleby is okay.  
Love from Sam

Claire closed her eyes and pushed the pad back towards Sam. “We’ve talked about this. I know you feel okay, Sam, but you’re still not well enough to go home. You have moved to a new floor, same hospital, but a different department...remember when we talked about where you have to go before you can go home? Neuro floor and then rehab and then home? Nickleby’s fine, look.” She pulled out her cell phone and showed Sam the picture she had taken of his cat last night.

Sam stared at her as if seeking the truth of what she was saying in her eyes. “Write it down.”

“Write what down?”

“What you said about where I have to go.” He started to pass the pad back to her and then changed his mind. “No, I’ll write it. Neuro floor,” he prompted and then wrote down what Claire said as she explained where he would go next. Sam nodded, pleased with himself and happy with his mom’s explanation now that he had written it in the pad. He lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Claire removed the pad and pen and glanced again at the page and the simple letter. She closed her eyes and forced herself to remember Sam as he was and as she prayed he would be again.

The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels, but every time we think we have measured our capacity to meet a challenge, we look up and we're reminded that that capacity may well be limitless. This is a time for American heroes. We will do what is hard. We will achieve what is great. This is a time for American heroes and we reach for the stars.

She smiled at the memory of how proud she had felt hearing the President speaking those words and at her amazement when Sam told her he’d written the last lines in the car. Sam seldom had time to write to her, but when he did his letters were witty and engaging. She kept every one of them. She wouldn’t keep this one; she would throw it away when Sam was well, along with any other reminder of these nightmare hours watching her son trying to find his way back to them. She waited until Sam was asleep and then collected her coat and bag and left. She needed to be in Sam’s apartment, where so many reminders of the person she longed to return surrounded her.

“It’s an amazing thing.”

“Yes,” Josh answered with a sense of impending doom.

“Did you know-”

“Why me?” Josh muttered.

“Did you know,” the President continued undeterred, “that your brain uses 20% of your body’s energy but only accounts for 2% of its total weight?”

“No, I didn’t. Do you know anything about what happens to the brain when it’s overloaded with trivia?”

“It’s an amazing thing,” Bartlet repeated. “How long has Sam been in the neuro department now?”

“Two weeks.”

Bartlet shook his head. “His recovery is causing quite a stir in medical circles you know. Abbey told me that she’s had three requests to write a paper about it.”

“It’s rare but not unheard of. I mean, people can recover from brain injuries with almost no ill effects.”

Bartlet picked up his drink and relaxed back into his chair. It wasn’t late but it was later than Josh had hoped to leave. He had already spent fifty minutes being subjected to a lesson in brain trivia and he was more than ready to go see Sam and then go home.

“I spoke to the doctor again today. He told me he’s known people recover fully before but not usually from Sam’s degree of injury. He’s said Sam was surprising them all with how quickly he’s improving.”

Josh nodded. Sam was improving. He knew it was amazing how each week brought a lessening of the effects of the injury. He also knew that he was going to settle for nothing less than a full recovery. Sam would expect nothing less from Josh. He didn’t notice Leo come into the room and sit quietly beside his old friend.

“I’ve been sharing some incredible facts about the human brain with Josh.”

“Be sure to get me up to speed on those later, Josh.” 

Josh flashed a grin at Leo and decided his opportunity to leave had arrived. “Well, it’s been...fun, sir but I really think I should get going.”

“You’re leaving it a bit late. Sam’s probably asleep now.” Bartlet looked over to Leo.

“Yeah, I’d just go straight home, Josh. You’ve got the whole weekend to visit.”

Josh shook his head. “I didn’t go yesterday. I should just pop in and-” He looked at Leo and then at Bartlet and he suddenly realised what was happening. “This is a set-up! You’ve been keeping me against my will, filling my brain with useless information and all the time it was a trap! And then you,” he turned his gaze to Leo, “you come and join in. You’re like those dinosaurs that killed Bob Peck, working in pairs to catch your prey!”

Leo nodded. “That’s about the size of it.” He leant back and studied Josh. “Go home, Josh. Skip the hospital, just go straight home tonight.”

Josh looked at the two raptors sitting before him and smiled. “You’re good.”

“We are,” Bartlet agreed. “Maybe we could try this tactic on the French Ambassador?”

“Nah, he’s probably seen Jurassic Park as well,” Leo pointed out.

Josh took his leave. He felt slightly guilty for not visiting Sam, but guiltier for how relieved he felt to be given permission not to by Leo and the President. He took a route home that bypassed the hospital. When he got to his apartment, he threw off his clothes, checked his messages, got straight into bed and for the first time in many nights, slept through to his alarm.

“I don’t want to go!”

Claire couldn’t help but shake her head at her son. “You’ve spent the last few weeks begging us to let you leave and now you’re actually leaving you’re telling me you don’t want to go!”

Sam took another pile of cards from his mother and put them in his bag. “I mean I don’t want to go to another hospital. I want to go home.”

“Oh.” She nodded and waited for Sam to calm down. “It isn’t a hospital. It’s a rehabilitation centre. I’ve told you this.” Her tone was sharp and she sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve told you, Josh has told you, the doctors have told you. You can’t go home yet but you’re a step closer. It isn’t anything like a hospital. It’s more like a hotel.” Sam shot her a disbelieving look. “Honestly!”

Sam settled back and the tense atmosphere left the room with the movement. “Well, okay, but I’m going to be home before the end of the month.”

“That’s the spirit.” Then, more tenderly, “That’s my boy.” She leant over and kissed him and went back to packing his belongings ready for the short journey.

Sam had spent just under five weeks in the hospital. To him it seemed like an interminable amount of time but to the doctors, his recovery was proving to be remarkable. The most experienced doctor on the floor had seen a number of patients recover as quickly, even more quickly than Sam from serious brain injuries, but for many of the staff Sam’s recovery was something of a miracle. 

“It makes you realise how little we know. I’d have never predicted Sam would be doing as well as this based on his injuries and the length of time he was in a coma.”

Toby nodded, not really listening to the doctor who stood beside him as he waited for the wheelchair to arrive for Sam. He had heard enough about how miraculous Sam’s recovery was. He would announce when a miracle had occurred and that would only be when Sam was sitting in the office next to his again, the real Sam, not this forgetful, child-like person who seemed to inhabit his body at the moment.

“I’m sorry?” Toby said, realising the doctor had asked him a question.

“I was just wondering if you were accompanying Sam to the rehab centre.”

“No, I just came in to...you know...to see him off.” I’m not accompanying him. Josh is doing that. Josh is doing everything. Sam can’t remember my name.

The doctor nodded and held out his hand. Toby shook it, suddenly realising that this would be the last time he would be here. He also realised that he should have got the staff something, some cookies maybe or flowers. He had a vague memory of signing something and Ginger badgering him about money for a collection. He put his theory to the test. “Did you get the...”

“The cake, yes. It was thoughtful of you and the letter from the President is already framed and on the wall.” 

“Good. Well, thank you for all you’ve done for Sam and accommodating us, it can’t have been easy.”

“We’re just glad Sam is on the mend and moving out of here quicker than anyone imagined he would.” They shook hands again and the doctor hurried off down the hall. Toby turned back to Sam’s room. He wondered who had suggested the President write the staff. Probably no one; it was the sort of thing he would do. How had he missed that though, and the cake, why wasn’t he involved in that? Toby rubbed at his forehead, trying to force some sense into his brain. He couldn’t care less what gift had been chosen for the team who had worked so closely with Sam. He was at a loss to understand why trivia such as gift giving was suddenly becoming something he even contemplated thinking about. He put it down to stress, overworking, covering for his deputy. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the elevator door opening and Josh’s voice breaking the unusual silence of the corridor.

“I’ve been handling motor vehicles for a number of years, Donna. I think I can handle a hospital wheelchair!” This statement was concluded with a clash of metal.

“Give it to me!”

Reluctantly, Josh retrieved the wheelchair from the wreckage and parked it in front of Donna. He walked towards Sam’s room, stopping by Toby’s side. “You coming?”

“I don’t want to crowd him.”

“Okay.” Josh carried on into the room. He didn’t have time to worry about Toby’s sudden, uncharacteristic displays of uncertainty and nervousness. He didn’t have time for anything today. Sam was leaving the hospital and that was all that mattered to Josh. 

Josh entered the room to find Sam sitting on the bed watching his mother pack the last of his belongings. “All set?”

Claire answered by handing Josh a bag. She couldn’t wait to get her son out of the hospital. “Ready, Sam?” she asked, as she watched Donna enter the room and wheel the chair over to the bed.

Sam shook his head. “I’m walking!”

Josh glanced at Claire to see if she was going to placate Sam and was surprised to find a look of exasperation. He stepped closer to the bed. “Ride, I’m afraid, buddy. If you don’t get wheeled out they won’t let you out of here.”

Sam crossed his arms and shook his head again. Outside, Toby listened in. He toyed with the idea of leaving before Sam or Claire knew he was there. He didn’t want to see Sam like this. He hated hearing Sam use so few words, arguing by repeating the same word until he forgot exactly what he was arguing against. Josh tried to cajole Sam into getting into the chair. Toby started to walk away but the next words he heard stopped him in his tracks.

“Now shall I walk or shall I ride?  
"Ride," Pleasure said:  
"Walk," Joy replied.”

Toby had prayed, actually been to synagogue and prayed to hear some sign that Sam was still a man of words, still moved by them, still able to use them so brilliantly. He leant against the wall and bowed his head.

“Okay, well,” Josh moved the chair directly in front of Sam, “I bet whoever said that wasn’t talking about being discharged from hospital. If he was, he’d have chosen ride over walk, any day.”

“He wouldn’t because William,” Sam frowned. “It was William, he was Welsh...you know!” He looked at Josh expectantly but Josh was clueless and couldn’t think of one Welsh writer let alone one called William. “It doesn’t matter, Sam.”

“It does, it does matter! I know it, it’s...William...William...”

“William Henry Davies.” Toby stood in the doorway. Sam looked up and beamed at him.

“Yes!” Sam nodded in satisfaction as if he had recalled the name himself. 

Toby walked towards the chair and took hold of the handles. “Let’s get out of here.”  
Everyone was surprised and relieved when Sam slowly positioned himself into the chair. Silently, they followed Toby and Sam from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

“Level seven,” Josh announced as he put his feet on Toby’s table.

“You’re sure? You don’t want to maybe check your diagnosis with, oh I don’t know, a neuropsychologist?” Toby pretended to be unimpressed by Josh’s knowledge of the Los Amigos scale of functioning but was secretly fascinated by it and how it related to Sam’s recovery.

“Consistently oriented to person and place,” Josh declared. “Level seven.”

“He’s not consistently orientated to me. He calls me Tom!” Toby reached forward and grabbed the brain injury book from Josh’s hand. “Remote memory has more depth and detail than recent memory. That’s where he’s at, level six.” Toby put the book down. “Okay, Doctor Lyman, let’s look at the evidence. He knows you, he knows his mom. He thinks he worked with CJ at Gage and he keeps referring to the President of the United States as Harold. He can’t stand up without losing his balance, he flies off the handle for no reason at all and has no idea why he’s not at home or even where he actually is.” Toby leant back in his chair. “Level six.”

Josh neither agreed nor disagreed. He folded his arms and looked down at his feet. Silence fell and Toby went back to enjoying his scotch and staring at the sunset through the window.

“The doctor told me that we shouldn’t mention the crash. His mom tried to talk to him about it and apparently he became ‘highly agitated’.”

“Why? Does that mean he remembers it? Did he say anything?” Toby put his drink down and stared at Josh. The peace the brief silence and red glow of the sunset had brought vanishing with Josh’s words.

“He didn’t say, he just said it’s important not to try to force memories. Sam is remembering the feelings and emotions associated with the crash but not the crash itself so all talking about it does is bring up those feelings.”

“I keep thinking...”

Josh looked up and waited, nodded imperceptibly to encourage Toby to continue.

“I keep thinking about Sam not putting his seatbelt on.” Toby ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his nose before finding the courage to continue. “If he’d had his seatbelt on we wouldn’t be sitting here now desperately trying to make ourselves believe Sam is moving through some scale that we don’t really understand.” Toby cleared his throat and sat forward. “He was upset because of what I’d said and because of that he-”

The ringing of the phone made both men jump. It was the closest Toby had come to talking about the night of the crash and Josh knew the interruption had ended any chance he had of continuing the conversation. He returned to his office and decided that the next time Toby opened up he would make sure they weren’t disturbed.

When he had finished the call, Toby decided a quick exit would be the best idea in case Josh came back to continue their discussion and force him to ‘open up’. Toby hated the expression; he hated any expression that was to do with talking about his feelings. He quickly packed his briefcase and then left his office. He paused at Sam’s office. Toby had finally agreed on appointing someone on what he called a very temporary and impermanent basis. He had refused to allow her to use Sam’s office though. He unlocked the door and walked in.

Nothing had been moved since the evening of the crash. Toby had a vague sense of tempting fate if he changed how Sam had left it. Now though that fear had left him or rather had reversed and he feared not changing the room would mean Sam wouldn’t return. He walked behind the desk and lifted the laptop. It took some time but eventually the screen woke from its hibernation. Amazingly, the speech Sam had been working on was still waiting for him to add a period to the last sentence. Toby pressed the button, saved the document and closed down the machine. He threw an empty paper coffee cup into the trash and picked up a mug that contained the remnants of coffee that had turned into a science experiment. He put Sam’s pencils back into a pot and straightened the papers in his in-tray. A couple of messages were lying underneath and Toby glanced at them before putting them on top of the pile. Phone Darren about tonight. Toby had a vague recollection of Sam being with a friend at the bar and supposed that was Darren. He lifted the note and looked at the one beneath. Newsnight have called four times, I’ve referred them to CJ. Toby wondered how many requests for interviews Sam had gotten that day. He hadn’t asked him because he hadn’t cared. Your mom called- she doesn’t understand what you’re meant to have done but she says never mind- DC is full of badoozles. Toby smiled briefly at yet another word from Claire’s own dictionary but then the smile faded as he realised Sam must have called her and she’d known what a bad day he was having and maybe how Toby was making it worse.

He picked up all the messages and threw them in the bin. A half-eaten chocolate bar and a banana skin followed. Suddenly exhausted, Toby sat heavily in Sam’s chair. He peered at the window between the two offices. The window Sam sat and looked up at when a ball was thrown against it. He looked at it and tried to see Sam’s point of view.

When Josh appeared at the door thirty minutes later, Toby had hardly moved. Josh pushed the door to behind him and sat on the other side of the desk. After a few more moment’s silence Toby looked up as if only just realising Josh was there. “I came in here to clear up. Sort a few things out. I was thinking...” Toby stood and walked to the window. “I was trying to imagine what I’m like to work for.”

Josh couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped before he could stop it. “Sorry! Man, that’s a thought that could have us here all night.”

Toby scratched at his chin. “Yeah, well.”

“You’d know if Sam was unhappy.” Josh nodded, “Believe me, you’d know.”

“I think he’s been wanting to say that for some time. You remember he said that? He thought I’d been dissatisfied with his work.”

“He always thinks that. It’s what makes him write as well as he does. You’ve both been through periods of ‘lost talent’. It’s only ever a problem when you lose it at the same time.”

Toby smiled at that but it was short lived. “He was right though. I was dissatisfied and I hadn’t said anything.” He looked up at Josh, his stare almost unnerving him. “I always told him before. Why didn’t I bother this time?”

“You were mad, you had that thing with Phillips, you were down two on the communications team, the President had sent back your fourth draft of the-”

“Don’t make excuses for me. I don’t need you to do that!”

Josh held up his hands to pacify Toby. “I’m just saying.”

“He knew I wasn’t happy with what he was producing. He wanted me to tell him. I didn’t bother.” Toby shrugged. “And I don’t know why.”

Josh stayed silent. He didn’t know why either.

Claire loved the sounds of a restaurant; glasses clinking, conversations drifting around the tables, occasional gusts of laughter. She loved expensive restaurants too. Phillip had moaned about the cost of taking her to them. Leo had taken her to one of DC’s finest.

“I feel guilty but relaxed and very full.” Claire raised her glass. “Thank you Mr McGarry.”

“Leo,” he corrected.

Claire smiled. “Thank you, Leo.”

Leo smiled and waited for their plates to be cleared. “I’m glad you’re feeling relaxed. You’re spending all your time taking care of Sam. You need a little looking after too.”

“At the start he couldn’t cope if I wasn’t there. It was easier in the end to just be with him all the time.”

“Josh said his ankle’s healing well. You mentioned you spoke to a doctor earlier. What did he say?”

Claire folded the napkin and placed it on the table before sitting back in her chair. “They continue to be amazed, which is wonderful for whichever one of them goes on to write a paper for a medical journal but not much use to me. I know they can’t tell me how much more Sam will improve so I get tired of hearing them rave about how well he’s progressed. Josh said it won’t be a miracle until the Sam he knows is back. I have to agree.”

“Amen to that.” Leo shook his head. “I’m privileged to work with some of the greatest political minds in this country. I forget that sometimes. Then again when you’ve seen two of the greatest minds set fire to a fireplace that’s been welded shut for 100 years, it’s not so hard to forget.”

Claire nodded and laughed. “No, I suppose it isn’t.”

“It is a miracle though. In those first days after the accident, well, I never thought we’d be where we are.”

“I didn’t either and every day I know a little more of him comes back to us. Physically he’s doing well. He’s exhausted and wobbly on his feet. Even doing simple things wears him out but on the whole he’s recovering well from his injuries.” She sat forward, placing her elbows on the table. “This sounds terrible but at the start, when he first came out of the coma, he was like a little boy again. Exactly like he was when he was a child. Part of me wanted that stage to last a while longer than it did. Isn’t that awful?”

Leo smiled. “I don’t think it’s awful. He needed his mom and let you be there for him. I would think that was better than the ‘swearing at the doctors’ stage!”

“Did Josh tell you about that? I was mortified. That mouth!”

“So where are we now? What stage is he at?”

Claire smiled again and Leo was glad to see it. He liked her smile. “Well, first of all, don’t ask Josh that question.”

“He’s obsessing and laying claim to a medical knowledge he doesn’t have?”

“Boy is he! Sam can remember working in New York. He remembers Josh right up to that time. He knows he works at the White House but only because Toby told him. It’s meaningless to him. He’s getting better at holding conversations and he’s started to remember things from the day before. He sounds more like himself. He knows he’s ill and has been in an accident so we don’t have to worry about him trying to escape anymore. The doctors have said we’re not to mention the crash or try to make him remember it. He is remembering though. I know he is. He gets these, I don’t know, flashes or something. He suddenly looks terrified but he doesn’t know why and I think that terrifies him even more.” Claire stopped talking and suddenly looked exhausted.

“It’s late. Let me take you home.”

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. Leo saw Sam in that expression so clearly that he laughed. “His mother’s son.” 

“Be glad of it. If he was his father’s son he’d have slept with Mrs Bartlet by now!”

Leo burst into laughter of such volume that Claire told him to shush before giggling herself. “Well, it’s true!”

Leo stood and picked up their coats, helping Claire into hers. He was still laughing as they walked out of the restaurant.

For the third time in as many minutes, Josh coughed. He coughed again as he entered the rehab centre and again as he walked past reception. As he entered Sam’s floor his coughing grew worse. A nurse stopped as he walked by. “Hi, Mr Lyman. Nasty cough you’ve got there.”

Josh could feel the contents of his gym bag move a little and coughed again in readiness. “It comes and goes. Is Nurse Hatch on today?”

“Yes, she’s over there. I can get her if you want?”

“No! I mean...no, that’s fine. No need to,” another cough, “disturb,” and another, “her.”

He hurried off towards Sam room, desperately trying not to be seen by Nurse Hatch. He entered and closed the door behind him. “That was close!”

Sam looked up from the model pieces he had spread out at a table. “What was cl-” The sound coming from Josh’s bag silenced Sam. He threw a quizzical expression at him and turned away from the table. “What was that?”

“That,” Josh said gently placing the bag on the floor and unzipping it, “was Nickleby.”

Sam jumped out of his seat and watched as his cat made an equally rapid move out of the bag and under the bed. “You brought Nickleby!” Sam said and any danger Josh had been in from Nurse Hatch was well worth the look on Sam’s face now. “He’s probably traumatised by the journey and I doubt we’ll get him out from under the bed, but you brought him.” Sam dropped to his knees and started to try to coax his pet from his hiding place. 

“Naturally, I have thought ahead to the ‘cat too terrified to say hello scenario’ and have planned accordingly.” He reached into a pocket on the bag, pulled out a bag of treats and threw them to Sam.

Nickleby feigned disinterest but eventually he came out. Once satisfied that it was understood the move had been on his terms, he moved over to Sam and immediately started to purr. 

“That’s cute,” Josh said as he watched Nickleby pat his paw on Sam’s nose. “Hallmark would love this. Man I wish I had a camera!”

Sam ignored Josh and concentrated on Nickleby who was torn between sulking with Sam for abandoning him and purring.

“How long have I got?” Sam asked as he walked over to the bed.

“Your mom’s due back at yours in an hour but more importantly Nurse Hatch has just started her shift.” Josh sat back in a chair and watched as Nickleby finally forgave Sam for being away so long and abandoned sulking for curling up beside him on the bed. 

Josh went over to the model Sam was building. The doctors had told Josh that working on model making and puzzles would be a good mental exercise for Sam and so he had set about finding the most challenging and, he hoped, interesting models. He sat at the table and picked up the instructions lying in the lid of the box. He quickly replaced them, lifted the lid to look at the picture and started to pick out pieces that he could match to it. After spending five minutes and only finding two pieces, he stood and put the lid back on the box. “I’ll let you start that and then I’ll help out when you get to the dome thing.”

Sam would normally have seen through Josh and suggested his model making skills weren’t as great as he was claiming but Sam just nodded and replied, “Okay.”

The sound of the door handle being turned made both men start. Josh grabbed for the bag and Sam pulled the corner of a blanket over Nickleby. Both men stared as the door slowly opened and then sighed with relief on seeing CJ.

She started to say hello but a meow stopped her greeting. “Is that a cat?”

Josh shook his head but Sam lifted the cover to reveal the cause of the noise. 

CJ laughed and walked over to the bed. Nickleby took an instant liking to her and walked over to sniff her hand. “I can’t believe the centre agreed to this. That’s great that they’re allowing you to-” She frowned as she saw Josh toeing the bag under the bed. “Wait a minute, buster. You sneaked him in!”

Josh was about to protest that he didn’t see anything wrong with pets visiting their owners but CJ jumped off the bed, walked over to him and hugged him. “That’s the sweetest thing! You brought Sam’s cat in a bag, which I’m pretty sure is against some sort of feline law, but you brought him! Come here, I’m going to hug you again.”

Sam was uninterested in his friends’ actions. He had already put on his shoes and was placing Nickleby back into the bag. “You ready, Josh?”

Josh pulled away from CJ and looked over at him. “Ready for what?” He knew with a sinking feeling though that Sam meant ready to go. “Sam, I’m going to take Nickleby back to yours now. I’ll bring him again if I can. You’ll be ready to go home soon.”

Sam frowned. “I’m ready now.” He lifted the bag carefully and opened the zip a little wider. An indignant Nickleby peeped out of the hole.

“Give him to me, Sam. I’ll take him home for you.”

An expression of utter confusion settled on Sam’s face. It was an expression Josh had come to hate to see. “No, I’m home now...I...cat’s at home...I have a cat...” Sam looked at CJ and back at Josh. “You said I’d be home soon. When? I’ve got a cat...at home...I’ve got a cat.”

Josh stepped forward and held out his hand for the bag. “I’ll take Nickleby home and then, when you’re feeling better you can go home too. You can’t have cats here. He was only visiting.”

“I can have cats at home though can’t I?” Sam passed the bag to Josh and placed both his hands on his head. It was becoming a familiar action and one that seemed entirely contradictory to his once familiar hands on hips stance. He suddenly raised his voice causing a flurry of movement within the bag. “Am I home or not?” he shouted, hands scrunching up his hair. Josh passed the bag back to CJ who slipped unnoticed from the room. 

“Not, buddy. Your mom’s staying there and looking after it for you. You’re in a rehab centre now because you’ve been ill. You’re getting better though and you’ll be home soon.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, I need to stay here for a while. It’s like a hotel.” He turned away from Josh and walked over to the table. Josh watched as he quickly identified three pieces of the model and started to make the base. “I’ll see you later,” Sam said without turning around.

Josh reluctantly said goodbye and walked out of the room. He stood outside the door for a while before catching sight of a frantic CJ who was beckoning him over and seemed to have developed an erratic cough.


	10. Chapter 10

Donna went unnoticed by Josh as she stood in the doorway studying him. He jumped when she finally spoke.

“I’m not going to make coffee or fetch bagels for you anymore.”

“Why? Wait a minute, you never make me coffee or fetch bagels!”

She entered the room. “But the possibility that I might always existed. Now, there is no chance that I will.” She folded her arms. 

Josh scratched at his chin and dropped a file on a large pile on the floor. “Let me start by making it clear that I’m hurt by your stance on coffee and bagel delivery. I sense that your move is intended to make me change my ways or correct some current behaviour that you are unhappy with. I think it would be wise, if you’re going to try to negotiate in this way, to use as your main bargaining tool, something that you can actually take away from me that I currently have. For example, if you’d come in here and said, ‘Josh, I’m no longer going to book your flights or help you hide from CJ, then I might have- Ow!” Josh rubbed at his head. “What was that for?”

“To stop you talking.” She moved a pile of paper and sat on his desk. “You slept at the hospital last night. You haven’t eaten today. You stayed here all night Thursday.”

Josh nodded slowly. “Yes, no and yes.”

“No you have eaten or no you haven’t?”

“Which answer will result in you leaving my office?” Donna stared at Josh. Her expression reminded him of a teacher he’d once had; the sort of teacher who managed to get a confession with just a look and a tut. He sighed and sat back in his chair. “Okay, I’ve got five minutes free if you feel like a lecture. I should warn you though I’m becoming immune to your charms.”

“If you keep this up, you’ll be no use to Sam when he gets out of the rehab centre and that’s when he’s going to need you most.”

Josh frowned. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Okay. You’re right. I could have done without the tap on the head but on the whole you’ve made your point well.”

“So you’re going to cut back on all-nighters and meal-missing?”

“Are you going to cut back on hitting me on the head?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, okay.” Josh shrugged, it seemed a good deal to him. 

Donna frowned. Too easy she thought but she slipped off the desk and went to the Mess. Coffee would be a long time coming but she decided she could run to a bagel.

“One year!” Toby threw the newspaper across the room. Unsatisfied with the soft thud, he picked up a cup and was about to throw that too when CJ entered the room. The cry of his name stopped him in mid throw.

“I take it you’ve heard the news.” She walked over to the desk and took the cup from his hand.

“One year and we know he’ll be out in less. That drunken bastard, he can’t even remember getting into his car!”

CJ sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. Reluctantly, Toby took a deep breath and joined her. When they had found out that the charge of Felony DUI had been dropped, they knew that Daniel Kelly was unlikely to get more than a year in prison. The news of his sentence though had angered everyone. Toby shook his head. “One year,” he repeated but this time it was almost too quiet for CJ to hear. “What’s Sam’s sentence? He’ll be out in a year and Sam will still be recovering.”

“I know.” CJ reached for his hand. There were little words of comfort she could offer him. “At least we won’t have to tell Sam.”

“I’m supposed to take comfort from the fact that Sam isn’t even aware he’s been in a crash?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Toby squeezed CJ’s hand. “I know.”

Outside, a door slammed and a loud voice boomed across the bullpen. “One lousy, frigging, year!” 

“I guess Josh has heard,” CJ said as she rested her head back and awaited his arrival. 

“We need to do something about this!” Josh said as he pushed Toby’s door open so forcefully it banged against the wall. “We need to phone someone and make...” Josh ran out of steam. He knew there was nothing they could do and that made him feel as bad as the sentence itself. “Can’t we at least fire someone?”

“We can get back to work is what we can do. It’s over. Let’s put it behind us and move on. No one’s getting fired, no one’s making any statements and no one’s going to contact any lawyers.” Toby looked pointedly at Josh. “Anyway, we’ve got Hamble and Clark this afternoon. You can take out your pent up anger on them.”

“More than I usually do?” Josh asked.

“Yes, but after we get them to agree to the changes we want.”

Josh seemed satisfied with this and left to go over his notes for the meeting, making sure he left no avenue of misdirected anger unexplored.

He had wasted his time. His anger during the meeting was not misdirected but very much directed at Hamble. It was so directed that Josh leapt over a chair and knocked his own flying in order to reach Hamble and land a solid blow before Toby managed to drag him off. Toby took as much of the blame as Josh when he explained what had happened to Leo.

“The thing is, I agree with you that this is bad, but the thing is if Josh hadn’t hit him I probably would have.”

Leo rubbed at his face and groaned. “Hitting Bert Hamble is on pretty much everyone’s ‘to do’ list but I have to tell you, Toby, I’m having a hard time understanding why my Deputy aided by the Communications Director gave in to the urge.”

“Josh was upset-”

“You need to give me more than Josh was upset! We’re all upset. Right now, some of us are a little more upset than others.”

Toby stood and walked over to the window. “It’s not good. I know this isn’t good. Just hear me out.” He turned and continued on seeing Leo’s nod. “To say Josh was angry about Kelly’s sentence would be an understatement. I, in retrospect mistakenly, advised Josh to use that anger to deal with the meeting with Hamble and Clark. I should have got Josh out of the room when he reacted to Hamble’s suggestion that he would rather be dealing with Sam.”

“What did he mean, he thought Sam would have agreed with or something?”

“No.” Toby walked back to the sofa and sat down heavily. “I thought that was what he meant at first. I thought the slime ball had actually made a half decent attempt at being a human being but then I saw Josh’s face. He knew what he meant and he insisted, in quite a menacing tone, that Hamble elaborate. To be fair, Clark did his best to shut him up but Hamble obviously takes more pleasure in winding Josh up than getting what he wants for his committee. He said Josh’s suggestions were insane and he’d prefer to be negotiating with Sam as at least his insanity has been medically diagnosed.”  
Toby rubbed at his eyes and pinched his nose. “Clark tried again at that point to make Hamble shut-up but he was on a roll. He went on to suggest that mental illness was probably a requirement for writing some of the drivel Sam produced for the President.”

“Go on,” Leo prompted, clearly being swayed to the punching Hamble side.

“There wasn’t much more conversation after that. Josh went very quiet and that never really bodes well. He leapt, and I have to say it was quite impressive, he leapt over a chair punched Hamble square in the jaw, knocked him flying and then told him to get out. He may have added something along the lines of Hamble and his committee being screwed.”

Leo nodded slowly. “Insane?”

“Yes.”

“Mental illness?”

“Yes.”

Leo nodded again. “You think Hamble will go public?”

“I can’t see it. What would he gain? Any publicity he gets for himself or his organisation would be at the cost of being known for making fun of people with head injuries.”

Another nod and then Leo smiled. “Did he land on his butt?”

“The floor broke his fall.”

“Okay then. Tell Josh to keep his head down for a few days and stay away from me for a few more.” Leo picked up a pile of papers and put his glasses back on signalling to Toby that the discussion was over. 

Later that evening, Toby, Josh and CJ were sitting around Sam’s rehab room in a peaceful atmosphere that was in marked contrast to the chaos of their day. It was unusual for all three of them to manage to visit at once and later, Josh said he thought the fact that all four of them were together had prompted what happened. 

The TV was on. The sound of CNN news was only really background noise though. Toby sat at the table trying without success to start the mid-section of Sam’s model. CJ was lying on Sam’s bed reading a magazine and Josh and Sam were playing chess. Josh glanced up at the screen. Congressman Hockley was being interviewed about the Internet Privacy Bill. He was being quite clear about his support of the bill but using the term ‘in theory’ often enough to hint at his lack of support when it came to a vote. 

Sam’s attention was focused on the chess board. He had not looked up at the screen and Josh hadn’t even thought he’d been listening but suddenly he moved a pawn and looked up at Josh. “How many have you got?”

Josh frowned, confused by the question and started to count the pieces he had left. “Five pawns, two knights-”

“No, Josh, for the vote!”

“58 so far.”

“What does Hockley want?”

Josh could see the pieces of model fall from Toby’s fingers, and knew CJ too was listening intently to their conversation. Josh answered Sam. “Stricter legal rights for individuals to sue companies.” 

“You should give it to him; he’ll back us on the banking bill without the small company amendment.”

Sam’s attention had never wandered from the chess board. He was oblivious to the emotions his friends were experiencing at hearing him talk so lucidly about politics. Josh stared at him, a look of incredulity on his face. Sam looked up and mistook the reason for it.

“What? You’d rather we lose this bill and let congress drag the banking bill into next year as well?”

“No...I...I agree, it’s just...” Josh caught Toby’s look of warning and didn’t finish his sentence. “No, you’re right.” He returned to the game, desperate to ask his friend what else he remembered but aware of Toby staring at him cautioning him not to do so.

As they left the centre, CJ, Toby and Josh walked in silence to their cars. It was only when they needed to separate that one of them spoke. “Well, that was amazing,” Toby stated.

“Does that mean he remembers working in the White House now? Is he, like, right back to before the crash or something?” 

Toby shrugged in response to Josh’s questions. “The doctor said his memory of recent events was returning. We were right not to press him though. I was right. You would have still been interrogating him if it hadn’t been for my subtle glances.”

“I can be patient! We’ve been told not to push Sam and not to force memories. I can do patience and I can do following doctor’s instructions!” 

Toby searched for his car keys. “Yeah, Josh, well your track record as a patient doesn’t really bear that out.”

“I’m not a patient patient,” Josh agreed. 

They said goodnight and parted. Each one headed home and trying, but failing, not to read too much into what had happened in Sam’s room.

Sam continued to improve. His memory returned slowly until it was clear that he knew he worked at the White House. He was still unsure about what exactly it was he did but he knew writing was a big part of his job. There was no great moment of revelation, just more frequent comments like the one he had made about Hockley. His friends were careful not to react. Josh had just nodded when Sam had asked him if Donna would be working late with him one night when he left Sam to return to his office. Outside of his room Josh had punched the air and whooped with joy before being told to be quiet by Nurse Hatch. CJ had reacted in a similar way when Sam had told her that she needed to start releasing some of the recommendations of the Croft report. The report had been released in full three weeks earlier but for the first time CJ started to believe that the Sam they knew would come back to them. 

Toby had not shared their experiences. Sam did not talk to him as much as the others and appeared not to remember him as well. Josh told him he was imagining it but Toby knew he wasn’t. He was even beginning to wonder if Sam was pretending not to remember him. He wondered exactly what Sam did remember and prayed the way he’d treated him the day of the crash would remain forgotten. He spent hours online trying to find out about the return of long-term memory following a brain injury but in the end decided it was easier to make an appointment to see Sam’s neuropsychologist.

“It’s much too early to talk about a return to work for Sam.” Michael Graham gestured to a seat opposite his desk and then walked around it and sat facing Toby. He assumed work was what Sam’s boss wanted to see him about.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask you.” Toby shuffled forward in the chair and then backwards, finally leaning back but managing to look uncomfortable, “Sam’s been remembering more recently, about work I mean, remembering people.”

Michael nodded. “We’re very pleased with his progress, amazed actually.”

“Yeah. The thing is, I was wondering, how does this work? Does it all come back at once? I mean if he’s remembering some of his colleagues, shouldn’t he be remembering all of them?”

“Not necessarily. Selective memory loss is very rare but in brain injury cases memory returns in different ways for different people. There’s an element of denial to consider as well.”

Toby sat forward. “Denial about the accident?”

Michael didn’t know where Toby’s questions were leading but he knew this meant a lot more to the man than simply a boss finding out about a colleague’s progress. “There are two strands to denial. One is a part of the brain’s recovery process. Some patients will just not accept they have been in an accident at all, even when their injuries are clear to see or as severe as a loss of a limb. This stage can last a long time into the recovery process. Sam is clearly not accepting his accident or condition yet. That’s where the second strand of denial can come. Once a patient is aware of, or recalls, to some extent the accident, they can then be in denial about the consequences of the accident. It’s often linked with depression which is unfortunately a common consequence of brain injury. I was saying about a patient who lost a limb; it was in a motorcycle accident. He remembered the accident and knew he was ill but he was in complete denial for a number for months about the fact that his life was going to have to change. He refused physio for example, didn’t keep medical appointments, wouldn’t accept help from family and friends.”

Toby rubbed at his face. “Okay.”

“Was there something else?”

“I was wondering, when, if, Sam remembers the accident how likely is it he’ll remember all of it? What happened before I mean?”

“It’s hard to say. Some people never remember, some remember the whole day in vivid detail, some remember up to a day or week before the event that caused their injury. Is there something I should know about what happened before the crash, something you think might hinder his recovery?”

“No it’s nothing like that.” Toby ended the conversation by shaking Michael’s hand. He walked to the door and then stopped. “It won’t help at all if I ask Sam if he remembers me will it?”

“No. Not at all.” Michael watched as Toby nodded and left the room. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the situation, maybe talk to Sam later on, and then with a sigh he returned to his backlog of work.


	11. Chapter 11

Another week passed. Sam grew stronger. Josh started to look slightly more human as he spent less time with Sam or rather allowed himself to spend time at home as well as work and the rehab centre. He could have done without Mrs Bartlet’s dinner of doom but he managed to go straight into denial about most of what she had said. It had been a plan cooked up by CJ and Abbey, a cheer-up dinner for the staff. Abbey had clearly missed the point about its purpose being to cheer the staff up as she spent most of the evening informing them that the hardest part of Sam’s recovery was to come.

Josh placed his coffee on his desk and sat down. Sam wasn’t going to get depressed, he wasn’t going to have any long-term side effects from his injury, he wasn’t going to have to leave his job or develop any coping strategies at all. “Quacks!” Josh declared as he reached for his mug.

“What was that, Josh?”

The sight of Abbey Bartlet standing in the doorway caused Josh to jump up out of his seat seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was holding a full cup of coffee. It was almost as if his verbal slur had somehow summoned her to him. He rubbed at his chest; certain that his heart’s frantic beat could be heard in the Oval Office.

“At ease, Josh!” Abbey ordered with a smile. She sat opposite his desk and relaxed back in the chair. “Who’s a quack?”

Josh collapsed more than sat in his chair. “Oh, you know, ducks mostly.”

She nodded slowly and handed him a bunch of tissues from the box on his desk and watched as he patted at his jacket and trousers and then tried to save the sodden file on his desk. “Jed’s worse than you.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“At being in denial about Sam. Jed refuses to let me tell him what we might be in store for as well.”

Josh relaxed slightly and sighed. “I’m sorry about the quack thing, although you have to admit that was pretty freaky!” Josh nodded to the doorway.

“If you think that’s freaky, wait until I do it when you’re only thinking bad things about me.” She raised her eyebrows and Josh smiled although part of him completely believed she could do just that.

“I’m going to shut the door.” 

“Okay.” Josh watched her close the door and return to her seat.

“I’ll let the President carry on being in denial about Sam but you have to step up to the plate here, Josh. You’re determined that Sam will have a complete recovery. That’s not impossible. In fact it’s highly likely given his progress so far but he won’t do it without his friends understanding exactly what it is he’s going through. You have to be prepared. Sam has one of the greatest minds I’ve ever known, and I’m married to a pretty intelligent guy, but there’s going to come a time when he’s fully aware of how much he’s forgetting and what his limitations are. That’s going to be when you need to be the strongest.” She sat back and waited for Josh to respond.

“Every time I see him, no matter how much he’s improved, I’m terrified that’s as good as it’ll get.”

“For you or him?”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “How could...for him of course!” He looked away from her questioning stare. “For me as well. I miss him and somehow having him like this, incomplete, it’s worse than not having him at all.” As Josh said the words he realised the truth of them and how he had refused to acknowledge that truth.

“You’re strong enough to get through this and to get Sam through it too; whatever the outcome. Stop feeling guilty about how you feel. You’re a good friend, Josh. Jed’s always telling me how similar you two are.”

“To each other?” 

“No, to him and Leo.”

Josh had no response to that. He was pretty much out of words. He couldn’t even think of a response when Abbey told him she had to go because she was sure someone was dissing her in the Mess. He stared at the door and waited for Donna to appear as he knew she would. He still didn’t speak when Donna left the room with his empty cup and returned with a clean shirt and full cup of coffee. She didn’t speak either. There was a sense of calm to Josh that she didn’t want to disturb.

It was only a week later that Josh realised exactly what Mrs Bartlet had been talking about. Josh had been watching a film with Sam when Toby turned up with pizza. Claire had asked Josh if he would stay until she returned later that evening. She’d said there was something off about Sam and she didn’t want him to be alone for too long. She’d spent the night and most of the day and was going to go home, eat, change and return by nine. Sam seemed okay to Josh, a little quiet, but not too anxious. 

He realised he must have fallen asleep as he opened his eyes to see Toby taking the DVD out of the machine. “Well, that was predictable.” Toby complained of the ending. He put the film back into the case and on top of the TV. He glanced at his watch and walked over to his coat.

“Are you going?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Your mom’s coming back,” he glanced at his watch, “any minute now.” 

Josh took his coat from Toby and started to put it on. “We’ll stay until she gets here.”

“No.” Sam walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of shoes. “I’ll come with you. You can drop me home.”

Sam had stopped begging to be allowed home a couple of weeks ago and so his announcement took Josh by surprise. “You can’t go home, Sam. You have to stay here.”

A coat and shoes had been given to Sam when he had stopped trying to run away. He hadn’t worn the coat yet but he reached into the wardrobe now and started pulling it on. “I can go where I want! I’m sick of this. Everyone keeps telling me what I can and can’t do.” He stooped down to retie the lace that had come undone. “You can’t go home, Sam. You have to stay here, Sam. You’ll like it here, Sam, it’s like a hotel.” He stood up and faced Josh. “Well it’s not like a hotel, it’s like a fucking prison and I want out. So, if you don’t mind, you can go home, Toby can go home and I’ll go home too.”

Josh took a step towards Sam and was surprised at the speed with which he made it to the door. Sam’s room was in a corridor that led to an outside door. It was only a short distance across the grass to the main entrance. Part of Josh thought maybe he should let Sam go, see how far he got before he was lost or too confused or anxious to carry on. The vision of Sam running out of sight or worse in front a car, prompted Josh to rush after him though and grab his arm before he could make it out of the room.

“Get off me!” Sam shouted. He pulled out of Josh’s grasp, the movement causing him to stumble.

Toby wanted to get to the doorway and block Sam’s path but he was stuck behind Josh who made another rush at Sam this time keeping hold of him and forcing him back against the wall. “Listen to me. You need to stay here. You’re not well enough to go home yet.”

Sam’s tone was low. He spoke slowly, stressing each word. “Get your hands off me.”

Josh knew an angry Sam could be a magnificent force; it could also be a sudden, howling, wind that would roar its disquiet and disappear as soon as it had started. The Sam that stood before him now was one he had only seen a couple of times and both of those times were ones he would much rather forget. He released his hold slightly but didn’t let go. “Come on, Sam. It’s okay. Come and sit down and we’ll talk.”

Toby could see the doctor standing in the corridor outside the room. A nurse stood beside him holding a tray. Claire had told him that they’d had to sedate Sam a couple of times recently. He shook his head at the doctor who nodded in reply. He too was hoping Josh would be able to calm Sam down.

“I’m not going to talk to you! And get your fucking hands off me!” Sam tried to shove Josh away but the strength the anger had given him was already fading. “I don’t want to talk. I want to go home!”

Josh tightened his grip. He wasn’t angry with Sam but his frustration with seeing his friend like this caused him to lose the little patience he had been clinging to. He shook Sam, forcing him back against the wall. “Well, tell me where you live then! You keep shouting at me that you want to go home then tell me where your frigging house is Sam. Tell me where you live!”

Sam frowned and seemed to shrink further into the wall. He desperately tried to remember his address. There was a green door he could see that clearly, a green door and a stoop. His house was close to the metro, he could get the express to 7th Avenue. Sam shook his head. “Not there, DC not New York.” He reached up and rubbed at his forehead. “Not a stoop...a metal door, two doors, with an entry code. I live up some stairs. There’re stairs and my door’s at the end.” Sam looked helplessly at Josh. “It’s an apartment. I need to move nearer work...keep saying I will.”

Josh nodded. “Yeah, it’s an apartment, Sam, but you don’t know where it is, do you.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know where I live.” Any energy he had now deserted him and Josh was grateful when Toby rushed to help as Sam started to slump down to the floor. The doctor said something to the nurse and she left. He waited until Josh and Toby had helped Sam to the bed and then entered the room. 

Josh remained by the bed but Toby had stood back and let the doctor check on Sam. He glanced up at the doorway and saw Claire standing in the corridor outside. He hid his surprise at seeing Leo standing next to her. Sam had said Leo visited a lot but Toby assumed he was confusing Leo with a doctor or another visitor. He knew now that Sam had been right. Toby suddenly felt as if he was intruding. Leo was standing with his arm around Claire and Toby knew the gesture was one of more than just fleeting comfort. He looked away and stepped further into the room. The doctor was satisfied that Sam was okay and he said something to Josh before walking out of the room. Sam was crying now. Josh was comforting him. Toby would leave soon. He couldn’t listen to Sam asking why he couldn’t remember, why everything was so jumbled and out of reach. He knew Josh would stay and he felt guilty about that but guilt was his companion now so he picked up his coat, put it on, nodded a greeting to Claire and Leo and walked down the corridor towards another sleepless night.

The next morning Toby busied himself with paperwork whilst he waited for Josh to arrive. He wouldn’t go to Josh. He knew he would come and find him and tell him what had happened after he had left. It was a morning routine that neither man was comfortable with. Toby looked up as Josh entered his office. “How was he?”

“After you left you mean?” Josh folded his arms and leant against the doorjamb. 

“Yes, Josh, after I left. How was Sam after I left?”

“He was okay. He calmed down. Claire stayed with him.” Josh sighed and walked into the room. “You should stay sometimes. Sam would appreciate it.”

Toby let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, sure, Josh. That’s just what he’d like, having Tom stay around to help!”

“He doesn’t call you Tom. Tony sometimes, but you’ve got to admit that’s pretty close.”

“I’d stay if I thought I could...” Toby waved his hand in the air, “you know, help, whatever.”

“Good because I think Sam needs quite a lot of whatever at the moment.”

“What do you want from me, Josh? I’m not exactly in my comfort zone right now. I’ve had a few big-brotherly type moments with Sam but I’m not the sort of guy who can ‘reach out’ or whatever the latest touchy feely mumbo-jumbo is.”

Josh held up his hands. “Fine. I’m just saying, maybe if you got in touch with your mumbo-jumbo side, Sam would start calling you Toby.” 

“Maybe.” Toby stood and picked up a file from his desk. “We should go, we’re meeting Leo. Which will be interesting.”

“Why?”

Toby looked up at Josh and frowned. “You didn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” CJ asked as she stepped into the room.

“Nothing, come on.”

“Oh no you don’t. If I’ve missed something I should have, you know, observed, then I think I need to know about it.” Josh said.

Toby sighed deeply. “Close the door.” He had a captive audience in CJ and Josh who seated themselves on the sofa and waited. “Whilst Sam was being upset, last night, Claire was waiting in the corridor.”

Josh frowned. “That’s it? And anyway, am I meant to observe through walls while calming down a distraught man?”

Toby shook his head impatiently. “She was with Leo!”

“Okay, I’m still not sure why this is something I should have observed and again, you expect me to see though a brick wall?”

“She was with Leo!”

CJ knew exactly what Toby was saying and turned to Josh who was clearly still in the dark. “Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you, if you’re young at heart,” she sang.

“Oh! She was with him!” Josh exclaimed, understanding finally dawning.

“And here is the best part, you have a head start-”

“Stop singing! Wow! This is big. The implications are massive. Does Leo know you know? Man, I’ve wanted something like this on Leo for so long. The next time he lectures me about inappropriate relationships I’ll be able to pull Claire out from under him!”

“You may want to rethink your wording-” CJ started but then she realised what Josh had said. “Wait a minute. Who are you having an inappropriate relationship with?”

“I’m not, but Leo likes to lecture me about it.”

“He thinks you should have one?”

“He thinks I’m-”

CJ never got to find out what Leo thought as the sound of files being slammed onto Toby’s desk halted the conversation. “I wish to God I hadn’t said anything! It’s a miracle, a miracle, that one single piece of work gets done around here!” Toby stormed out of his office leaving CJ and Josh in stunned silence. It only took a few moments for the silence to be broken by an eruption of laughter.

The meeting didn’t take as long as Toby had expected. Leo listened patiently to everyone’s ideas, delivered his decision and moved on quickly to the next item. Whilst Josh was talking Leo glanced at his watch a couple of times. “Okay, good, so do that, Josh, and then let CJ know the outcome.” He checked his watched again.

“Are you running late?” CJ asked.

“I’ve, er, I’ve got a lunch thing.”

CJ nodded knowingly, Josh grinned and Toby looked down at his shoes.

Leo looked at them one by one. “What? You think I’m some sort of super human who doesn’t need to eat?”

“No, it’s good that you’ve got a lunch thing,” CJ answered. 

“It’s good that I’m having lunch?”

“Most important meal of the day,” Josh offered. 

“That’s breakfast!” Toby corrected before returning to his observation of his shoes.

Leo had been standing but he sat now and folded his arms. “CJ, would you like to make any further comments about my lunch date?” Using the word ‘date’ was Leo’s mistake, laughing on hearing it was Josh’s. “Okay, I’ll say this once and I won’t talk about this again. Obviously someone has seen something and drawn his own conclusions.” Leo sent a glare in Toby’s direction. “Who I see in my own time is none of your business. The fact that a friendship may have developed between me and Sam’s mom is none of your business. If I see a single smirk or so much as a nudge or a wink in relation to anything to do with my private life I will fill your world so full of Cheese Days you’ll beg to be processed and tossed on a burger!” 

CJ, Josh and Toby stood immediately and left the room. Margaret glared at them as they walked by her desk. Josh didn’t dare risk a smile until he was safely back in his office.

An hour later, Leo had calmed down. The grounds of the rehabilitation centre were stunning and despite its closeness to traffic there was little noise apart from bird song and snatches of conversations. Leo took a sandwich from Claire who was listening to Sam tell her about a letter he’d received from a family friend. Leo watched the people passing by, family and friends and residents of the centre all trying to put their lives back together. He leaned forwards so he could see Sam. “I’m going to fire CJ, Josh and Toby.”

“Any particular reason or just the usual?”

“The usual,” Leo sighed. Sam nodded knowingly as Claire shook her head and smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

The petals from the rose bush outside Josh’s office window had long since fallen to the ground. The air was growing cooler and what had been a slight breeze was beginning to turn into a cold wind that made the Secret Service men outside turn up the collars of their coats. Winter was coming. 

Josh pulled his gaze away from the window at the sight of CJ entering his room.   
“Sam’s replacement is in the stock cupboard crying,” she announced.

“Yeah, we really need to get more post-its.”

“She’s not crying about the state of the stationery, Josh. She’s crying because Toby has just told her to look up the names of local elementary schools.”

“And?”

“And suggested she enrol at one and learn how to write.”

“Ouch!”

“Well, yeah.” CJ plonked herself down at his desk. “I’ve told Toby, flowers and chocolates, say sorry and try to smile more.”

“You told Toby to smile more?”

“Yes, and then I ran.”

Again Josh nodded. His gaze returned to the window. “I was just thinking, it’s getting colder, darker, you know.”

She frowned and smiled at Josh. “I don’t know?”

“Just, you know, winter’s coming, the nights are drawing in.”

“And Sam’s still not Sam.”

Josh let out a huff of laughter and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well it’s a good thing for Sam that Josh is still Josh then.”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“That was the nicest thing I’ll ever say to you. Now take me to lunch.”

They went for lunch and when they returned Sam’s replacement had resigned and Toby was trying to explain her resignation to Leo. They returned to their offices and decided lying low for the rest of the afternoon might not be a bad plan.

Toby hadn’t seen Sam since the night he had slipped uncomfortably from his room. He knew Josh hadn’t seen him for a few days either. Sam’s dad had finally paid a visit and everyone seemed to reach the same conclusion that leaving them on their own would be a good idea. Toby realised as he walked along the corridor towards Sam’s room that maybe leaving it so long wasn’t a good idea. He was sure the gap between visits would make no difference to Sam but he felt almost as nervous as he had the first time he had visited. 

He walked quietly to the door and peeked inside the room. Sam was alone, sitting at a desk. His back was to the door but Toby could see by the movement of his arm that he was writing. He coughed and entered the room. “Hey, Sam.”

Sam turned around and greeted Toby with such a dazzling smile that he felt even more of a heel for not visiting sooner. “Hey, Tony!”

Toby held up a bag and walked over to the table. “I got you these.”

Sam took the bag, peered inside and smiled. “From the kitchen...staff place?”

“Mess.”

“The Mess!” 

Toby knew the Danish swirls were Sam’s favourite, he wondered if Sam remembered that they were. He supposed he must as he had remembered where he used to get them.

“What are you writing?”

Sam stood, passing his pad to Toby as he did so. Toby read the first few lines and smiled.   
“This is the inauguration speech we wrote.”

“Yeah. I kept thinking about it. It was going through my head so I thought I’d write it down.” Sam shrugged.

“You’ve remembered it word for word!”

“Couldn’t I do that before?”

“You could remember a lot of things but not so much anything useful.”

Sam walked over to the chairs by his bed. “What could I remember before?”

“Traffic routes, Gilbert and Sullivan Operas, sitting senators.”

“That could be useful. If you were stuck in traffic, with a senator who was a Gilbert and Sullivan fan, that could be very useful.”

Toby smiled and relaxed, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands on his stomach. “It’s weird though, being able to remember something you couldn’t before like that.”

“Yeah, the doctor said that could happen. He told me sometimes people can remember phone and credit card numbers things like that. He said there was this guy who...” Sam frowned and closed his eyes, “this guy was erm...he said he remembered...”

“It doesn’t matter. Tell me later.” Toby could see Sam was getting frustrated. He changed the subject quickly but Sam was fixated on remembering the story the doctor had told him. 

“No, wait, I’ll get it in a minute, he got hit by a car and he couldn’t remember who he was, like me, I can’t remember,” Sam rubbed at his forehead as if he could coax the memory out, “then he could remember all the...it was codes...something to do with where he worked, all these numbers and he could-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Toby said trying to get Sam off the subject.

“It does matter! How can it not matter that I can’t remember a story that I was told yesterday!”

Sam was standing now and Toby wished Josh was here. Toby knew when Sam was better he would find it very amusing to know how many times he had wished for that in the past few weeks. Sam was pacing now, rubbing at his head and pacing up and down the room. Toby closed the door and returned and blocked Sam’s path. “Stop it! It doesn’t matter! You can’t remember a story; it’s no big deal, Sam. What is a big deal is you getting better and I don’t think getting so stressed all the time is going to help you do that so, just sit down, tell me you’ve forgotten the story, I’ll tell you it’s no big deal and we’ll go from there.” Toby was surprised to realise he was actually pointing at the chair but Sam obeyed his command and quietly went back to his seat. Toby retook his and waited.

“How can I get better? I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what better is?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know how long it will take or how hard it will be but I do know this, your job, your friends, your whole life is waiting for you. Everything’s where you left it.”

Sam looked up at Toby and stared at him as if seeking the truth of his words.  
“You can’t help me remember it though can you.”

Toby shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe when you get out of here I can help. I don’t know, jog things along.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Jog things along?”

“Maybe.”

Sam stood again and walked over to the window. “Do we work in the same office?”

“No. Your office is next to mine.”

“Is yours bigger?”

“Of course.”

Sam flashed a smile at Toby and turned back to the window. “You have a sofa in yours.”

“Yeah.” 

Sam folded his arms, his gaze remaining on the grounds below. “I can see it, picture it but then I’m not sure which bit goes where. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle; the whole picture’s there but it’s in bits, I keep trying to slot them together but they don’t fit.”

Toby stayed silent, hearing Sam verbalising what was happening in his head too fascinating to interrupt.

“I’ll tell you what else it’s like. Remember that time I got that email virus and all my files were corrupted? It’s just like that in my head. I know where all the files are, what they’re called and what should be in them but when I go to open them up I can’t read them. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Sam repeated with a sigh as he turned away from the window and came back to join Toby. “If I don’t get any better, if this is as good as it gets, promise me something?”

“I might, when you’ve told me what it is.”

“Promise me that you won’t let me go back to work just because you feel sorry for me.”

“Okay, I can promise you that.”

Sam nodded and let out a breath he had been holding. “Good. Thanks.”

They spent the next half hour looking at the new model Leo had bought for Sam. Toby found following the instructions frustrating but knew it was all part of Sam’s therapy and so read them out with a patience he rarely showed. His visit was cut short by a nurse taking Sam away for a session with the neurologist. Toby was surprised to find that after dreading seeing Sam, he was disappointed when his visit was cut short.

After spending so long yearning to be let home, Sam found when he was finally told he was going home the thought filled him with fear. He sat next to his mom and listened to the doctor. The information about future appointments, diet and other routines was lost on Sam. He was trying to picture himself back in his apartment. Free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. It terrified him.

The morning of what Josh called his release date was spent packing his belongings. Leo was taking some items ahead for him. 

“Claire, I have nothing but respect and affection for your son but I swear to God, if I get photographed carrying a giant teddy bear outta here I will never let him forget it.”

The fact that Leo said this whilst trying to get both his arms around the stuffed toy did little to add any real weight to his threat. He finally got a grip he was satisfied with and bent down to pick up a bag of books. 

“Chief of stuffed!” Claire exclaimed.

“What?”

“Chief of stuffed, that would be the headline.”

“You’re a very funny woman, Claire. I like that about you!” Leo left the room grumbling away.

Claire smiled and started to help Sam pack his clothes. 

“What’s going on with you and Leo?”

“Nothing’s going on. He’s just been very supportive while you’ve been in hospital.” Claire turned away and busied herself matching Sam’s socks into pairs.

“Hmm.”

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me, Samuel.”

“Well! You’re the one acting like a-”

“Like a?” Claire challenged Sam to finish his sentence.

“Just ‘like a’,” Sam finished weakly.

They carried on in silence. Claire knew she should talk to Sam at some point about her and Leo. She was in no rush though. She wasn’t entirely sure what she and Leo were yet.

Eventually everything was packed and ready to go. Sam was honoured by quite a line-up of staff from the centre when it came time to leave. He was still causing a stir in medical circles but the turnout for his farewell was more due to the relationships he had built with the staff during the weeks he had been in their care.

He felt very proud that he could remember most of their names when it came time to say goodbye. He watched his mom handing over some flowers and a cake to the nurses, his anxiety building at the thought he would soon be home.

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent. Claire was oblivious to Sam’s emotions. She was too caught up in her feelings of joy at finally taking her son home and away from the doctors and wires and beeps and constant dread that he’d never make it home again. 

They pulled up outside Sam’s apartment. He got out of the car slowly and then stalled at the stoop. Claire waited patiently. She could see his hand shaking and his other hand clutching so tightly to the handle of his bag his knuckles were white. She placed her hand on his back and ever so slightly pushed him forwards. 

Sam blew out a breath and then started to walk towards his home. Once inside he stood in the middle of the lounge, not sure of what to do next. Nickleby was hiding underneath a table, intent on showing his displeasure at Sam’s long absence through indifference to his return. 

Sam could hear a kettle being boiled and other sounds that let him know his mom was preparing something to eat. She stayed out of his way, letting him find his bearings. When she returned to find him still standing in the same place, she picked up his bags and told him to make a start putting his things away before lunch was ready. She left him. It was unbearably hard but one of the doctors had advised her to let Sam discover his home again on his own if possible. She stopped what she was doing and listened. She heard a bag being unzipped followed by footsteps, the sound of a drawer opening and more footsteps. When the drawer opening became drawers being banged she entered Sam’s room.

“Did you move my things around?” Sam asked crossly.

“No. I washed the clothes you’d left lying on the floor, which is a habit you must have picked up since you left home, and I put your washing away. Everything is where it was, Sam.”

“Okay, so why are my sweaters in my sock drawer?”

Nickleby entered the room, jumped on the bed and watched curiously as his owner spoke in a tone he didn’t recognise. 

“You must have moved things around before the accident. You were always shuffling your clothes around and organising them in different categories.”

Sam sat on the bed and watched Nickleby jump off it. “I don’t organise my clothes! I put them in a drawer or closet like anyone else.”

“Yes, anyone else who sorts sweaters alphabetically according to their labels.” She folded her arms and stared at her son, daring him to deny it.

“That was one time.” Sam pulled the rest of the clothes out of the bag and sighed, “Is lunch ready?”

Claire walked over to the bed and took Sam’s face in her hands, “Yes, darling, lunch is ready.” She kissed him tenderly and waited for him to follow her to the kitchen.

Toby was staring at the empty chair behind Sam’s desk. He really should have been nicer to Darren, or was it David? He put his hands in his pockets and sighed. Maybe if Leo could find him someone who was even slightly in Sam’s league he wouldn’t have to be so hard on whoever landed in Sam’s office next. Maybe he should have told Sam he was irreplaceable instead of suggesting he was only ever one speech away from a welfare check. Toby shook his head and straightened. No. Sam never needed mollycoddling. He gave as good as he got. It was how they were, why they worked so well. Toby couldn’t help feeling that maybe now it was too late to say anything that would matter to Sam. Maybe he’d just left it too late. Toby turned on hearing Leo’s voice and watched as the latest replacement followed in his wake.

“Toby this is James Dalton. He’s got two years with Governor Allen, three with Senator Bowles and two as assistant report editor for the Senate. Before moving to DC he worked at Baker and McKenzie in Chicago. You will not fire him or make his life so miserable that he resigns. Here’s his résumé. Play nice!” With that, Leo left Toby and James standing face to face in the doorway.

“Baker and McKenzie.”

“Yes.”

“Ranked the largest law firm in America by revenue in 2010.”

“Well, I worked there when it was only the third largest.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Toby’s face. He remembered having a similar conversation once about Gage Whitney. He pointed to Sam’s desk. “That’s a desk,” he said helpfully.

“Yes, we had those at Baker and McKenzie. I should feel right at home.”

Toby nodded. “Yeah.” He watched as James pulled the chair out and sat down, placed his laptop in front of him, and pulled his glasses out of his top pocket. “What have you got for me?”

“Plenty,” Toby admitted. “I’ve had a few staffing problems.” He went to his office and returned with a pile of folders and left James to some reading. He would make sure James stayed. James was going to be his lucky omen. James, he decided, would be the last replacement before Sam returned.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam had been out of the rehab centre for a month when Claire reluctantly told him she had to go home.

“It will only be for a week or so but I have to go. Your dad’s done a great job but I need to get back to the business for a while. There’re things he can’t do that I have to. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You don’t have to speak to me like I’m a child. I understand that life goes on, Mom!” 

“I’m not speaking to you like...” Claire faltered as she realised that was exactly what she had been doing. “I’ve spoken to Josh and he’s going to move in here while-”

“Wait! Don’t I get a say in who lives in my own home anymore? I don’t need anyone living here. I’m doing well, the doctors are pleased, the phys...physi...gym stuff, shit, just give me the damn word, Mom!”

“Physiotherapy.”

“Yes, that’s nearly finished. Why are you treating me like I’m going to start a fire in the kitchen or wander off and get lost or something?”

Claire didn’t have the heart to point out to Sam that he had already done both of those things. He was too angry to hear it anyway. “I know you’re getting better. You still need someone with you though. You get angry sometimes, confused, and your headaches are getting worse. You have medicines to take and you don’t always remember. I just...” Claire stood up and walked over to Sam. “You were released from the centre because you weren’t going to be living on your own. You know that. You know that you can’t be on your own, yet.” She lifted his head so he was facing her. “You know that, Sam.”

Sam nodded slowly and sat down on the sofa. “Josh can’t be here all day. What happens if I set light to the place in the morning?”

“Will you stop going on about that. You didn’t nearly burn down the kitchen because you have a brain injury; you did it because you’re a klutz!”

Sam smiled. “So who have you roped in to babysit me?”

“Well, Mrs Arnold from down the hall is going to come and see you in the mornings and my friend, Janet, do you remember her?” Sam frowned but then nodded, “She’s going to come in the afternoons. I don’t know why you’re so worried because you sleep half the day away anyway.”

Sam leant back against the sofa and sighed. “I expect Josh has a whole rota organised by now.”

“He certainly doesn’t plan on doing any cooking. I don’t know who’s going to be working on White House admin for the next couple of weeks because the assistants seem to have their work cut out preparing the various meals he has organised.”

Sam groaned and covered his eyes.

“Headache?”

“No, just Josh!”

Claire laughed and patted Sam’s leg. I’m going to make us a cup of tea and then maybe we’ll go to that park. I liked the pond there.” She left Sam on the sofa. Her smile vanished as soon as she turned away from him. The doctors had told her Sam needed to be on his own more but she dreaded leaving him. She hated the deception too. She stirred the tea and put the cups on a tray. As if reading stage directions, she fixed a smile back on her face as soon as she entered the living room.

“Walk with me would you?” Charlie quickly stood and followed President Bartlet as he walked past his desk and towards the Bullpen.

“I like to think I’m a reasonable man.”

“Yes, Mr President.”

“I was told visiting Sam at the hospital was a bad idea and so I accepted that opinion with grace and patience.”

“I don’t remember it exactly like that, sir, but I agree that you didn’t go to the hospital.”

Bartlet cast a sideways glance at Charlie and continued. “I was told visiting Sam when he was moved to the rehabilitation centre was a bad idea and so again, patience and grace.”

Charlie hurried to keep up with Bartlet’s pace. The agents too were quickening their pace which was leading them to the Mess.

“Sam has been home for a number of weeks now and no one has said visiting him there would be a bad idea.”

“That would be because you haven’t suggested it.”

Bartlet entered the Mess and walked towards a selection of fruit. The agents spread themselves around the empty room. “I haven’t asked and that’s why my plan is so ingenious.”

“And that would be your plan to...”

“Visit Sam.” He perused the fruit and decided against it. “Would you like an apple, Charlie?”

“It’s one a.m, sir, I’d quite like my bed.”

Bartlet nodded as if he had nothing to do with the reason for Charlie still being at work. “How do you like my plan?”

“I get the bit about no one suggesting you shouldn’t visit Sam but I’m still a bit hazy on the actual execution of it.”

The President changed his mind about the fruit and picked up an orange changing his choice to a banana at the last moment. “But as plans go?”

“It’s got potential.”

Bartlet slowly peeled the banana and leant against the counter as he took a bite. “It needs more work.”

“It does,” Charlie agreed as he followed Bartlet back to the Oval Office with no hope of going home anytime soon.

Charlie and the President weren’t the only ones still up. Claire had left that afternoon and Josh had been at Sam’s since early evening. He was sitting on the sofa watching a documentary about penguins with the volume turned down. Sam was in his bedroom. Josh had helped him into bed an hour ago. Sam’s headaches were horrendous and the medication did little to shift them. 

Josh took a swig from his bottle of beer and watched as the penguins started their waddling walk towards the sea. Sam had clearly been unsettled by his mom’s departure. He’d seemed agitated when Josh had arrived and said little. Josh had busied himself unpacking a few belongings in Sam’s spare room. He went into the living room frequently to check on Sam but before his headache started, Sam was clearly in no mood for company or conversation. Josh closed his eyes, rested his head back on the sofa and groped for the remote. Blindly he switched off the muted TV. He would sleep on the sofa until Sam woke and then, if it was worth it, he’d go to bed for what was left of the night.

Unfortunately, Bartlet hadn’t forgotten his plan the following morning. He blew into the Oval Office like a man on a mission and Charlie knew at once Bartlet’s mission was about to become his too.

“Good morning, Charlie. Is Leo in yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Close the door to his office just in case.”

Charlie did as he was told and then stood by the desk. He waited until Bartlet had finished writing and then read the list that was handed to him.

“These are all the people who need to know,” Bartlet explained, “you know, about the thing.”

“The thing we discussed last night?”

The president nodded. “Obviously the success of the plan depends on Ron agreeing to it but I’ve never let a thing like the Secret Service spoil my plans. Remember that bookstore we visited last Christmas?”

Charlie nodded as he scanned the list again.

“Well, Sam’s apartment is very close to that bookstore so Ron can’t object on distance or area.” Bartlet beamed, pleased with the way his plan was working.

“Why have you crossed out the first lady’s name?”

“Ah, you noticed that. My wife is of the opinion that I should leave Sam alone. Lady Luck has smiled on our endeavours though as Abigail will be in New York this week.”

“Your endeavours.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m just pointing out that your plan to visit Sam seems to have just become a joint venture. I was happier when my involvement was just listening to you talk about it.”

The President removed his glasses and looked up at Charlie. “When you took this job you knew there  
would be times when I asked more of you than you were prepared to give, grave times, Charlie, desperate times. This, Charlie, is one of those times.”

“You’re going to say this was my idea aren’t you?”

“Yes and when Ron and my wife ask I’m going to add that I tried to dissuade you.”

“Well, okay then. Is there anything else?” On Bartlet’s shake of his head, Charlie left the room and went back to his desk. Mrs Landingham heard his mumbled curse and immediately withdrew his right to cookies for the rest of the week.

Josh had finally gone to bed when Nickleby had decided the sofa wasn’t big enough for both of them. He had looked in on Sam who was pretending to be asleep and then crawled into the bed in the spare room for what was left of the night.

He woke to find Sam clattering around in the kitchen and not long after Sam appeared in his room with a tray. 

“I brought you some breakfast,” he said as he laid the tray on the bed.

“Thanks. How’s your head?”

Sam looked puzzled for a moment until he remembered yesterday’s headache. “Not too bad.”

Josh nodded and picked up some toast from the tray. “How did you sleep?”

“Not too bad.”

“Okay,” Josh replied studying his friend. “Have you taken your pills?”

“Yes.”

“What are you planning to do today?” 

“Not much.”

“Okay,” Josh repeated. “Is your mom’s friend coming over?”

“Yeah.”

Josh gave up trying to have a conversation with Sam and turned his attention back to the contents of the tray. Sam returned to the kitchen where he took his pills that he had forgotten to take and poured himself a cup of coffee. He listened to the sound of Josh, who was running late, getting ready to go to work and tried to remember what it felt like to rush like that, jumping into the shower, swigging back the last few mouthfuls of coffee, grabbing his wallet, pager and briefcase before leaving the apartment. He wondered why Josh was late and then realised what was different from his usual routine; breakfast. He seldom had time for breakfast before leaving the house and supposed Josh didn’t either. Josh appeared in the doorway, putting on his tie.

“I’m sorry I made you breakfast. You’re running late.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was good. It made a change from a bagel on the way in or grabbing something from the Mess.”

“Don’t do that!”

“What?” Josh asked, startled at Sam’s sudden change of tone.

“Pacify me or whatever it is you’re doing. If you don’t have time for breakfast then tell me and I won’t make it again.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Josh finished adjusting his tie and grabbed his keys and cell phone from the worktop. He pretended to look for his wallet until he was happy Sam had calmed down. 

“I’ll see you later.”

Sam nodded and turned away, busying himself with pouring a cup of coffee.

“Okay,” Josh said to himself as he hurried out of the apartment.

Mrs Arnold came at half past ten and played a game of chess with Sam, drank two cups of coffee and then prepared some lunch which they ate whilst watching Psychic Investigators. Janet arrived an hour after she left. She played Rummy with Sam, drank three cups of tea and took Sam on what he called his daily outing. Today the outing was shopping at Georgetown Park. 

Twelve hours since his breakfast in bed, Josh returned to Sam’s apartment to find an anxious Janet sitting on the sofa and no sign of Sam.

“What’s happened?” 

Janet stood. “Oh, no, nothing’s happened. There’s nothing wrong, not really. It’s just, we had a little moment at the mall.”

“What sort of moment?”

“It seems shopping centres are a little too loud and crowded for Sam. I shouldn’t have taken him. I didn’t know if he was ready. I should have spoken to his doctor first.”

Josh held up his hands. “Don’t worry. Let me go check on Sam then I’ll get us something to drink and you can explain the moment to me.”

Janet sat down again and nodded. She was exhausted and now that Josh was here she didn’t have to worry so much. She fleetingly wondered who was worrying about Josh.

Josh slowly pushed the door to Sam’s room open. The curtains were drawn but there was enough light from the living room to make out Sam lying on his bed.

Josh whispered, “Hey buddy. You okay?”

The huddled form turned and squinted at the light. “Yeah, is Janet still here? I think she’s a little upset. I had a, you know, a thing.”

“She’s here. I’m going to make some coffee. You want?”

Sam shook his head and immediately stopped the motion.

“Head bad?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get your pills. Janet’s fine, don’t worry.” He left the room, put some coffee on, filled a glass of water, took Sam his pills, poured the coffee, put a meal in the oven to heat through, checked his cell phone then turned it to silent, pondered over taking some of Sam’s pills for his own head and then returned to the living room. He laid the tray carefully on the table and then collapsed onto the sofa.

“Who’s worrying about you, Josh?”

“Many, many Republicans and some Democrats.”

Janet smiled and shook her head. “Well I hope someone is because you’re doing so much for Sam and you don’t seem to have cut back on your work hours.”

“I’m home before seven. Believe me, that’s cutting back.” 

Janet gave him a look of disbelieve and he knew the subject wouldn’t be dropped so he changed it. “Tell me what Sam did.”

Janet sighed and reached for her coffee. “He couldn’t cope with the mall. We did fine for a little while but then he just wanted to get out of there. He had no sense of how to do that and so he just ran. I couldn’t keep up. I had to do a sort of ‘follow that Sam’ thing with one of the security guys. We found him outside, shaking and totally disorientated.”

Josh nodded slowly. “Was this like the cinema?”

“Worse. I think he recovered more quickly though. It’s a shame as he was doing so well, apart from a couple of things. Before we got to Georgetown I had to make a stop and there was this obese man in a convenience store picking out a large pack of doughnuts. Sam went straight up to him and said, ‘If I were you I’d choose a nice piece of fruit’.”

Josh choked on his coffee. He knew that Sam’s idea of social cues and rules were a little off and would be for a while but he hadn’t realised what that might lead to in public places. “Oh man! What did the guy say?”

“He looked at Sam for a while in a very threatening way, as threatening as you can be holding a tray of yums yums, and then he put the tray back, shrugged and walked away.”

“Wow. That could have turned ugly!”

“Well at the very least it could have turned messy.” Janet took another sip of coffee unaware of how entertaining her description of today’s outing was. “Then we were in a drugstore and Sam bought eight different products for his teeth!”

“Yeah, you see that’s not a brain injury thing, that’s a Sam thing. Did he tell you your teeth are the best friends you’ll ever have?”

“Me, the clerk and a woman buying shampoo.”

Josh laughed again at the image of Sam making health suggestions to a stranger. He soon pictured his friend lying on his bed though and realised laughing probably wasn’t very sympathetic. “When did his headache start?”

“Pretty much as soon as we got home. I gave him some pills but they didn’t make any difference. How long will that go on for?”

Josh shrugged all his good humour vanishing at the thought of Sam’s headaches continuing.

“Who’s worrying about you Josh?” Janet repeated.

Josh just shot her a tired smile and let his head fall back against the sofa.


	14. Chapter 14

Josh, then Mrs Arnold, then Janet, then Josh; that was the pattern of Sam’s day. He accepted the routine which amazed Josh as based on his few meetings with Mrs Arnold he was sure a daily visit from her would drive him to distraction. After a couple of weeks, Sam added a new feature to the routine, a phone call to CJ.

His first call came after he had looked at the files that he found in his briefcase which had been put in the back of a cupboard in the spare room. He spent ten minutes explaining to CJ why she had to make sure that Congressman Garner was seated nowhere near Governor Calley when the President attended the DSCC Dinner. CJ thanked him for his advice and assured him it wouldn’t be a problem. She then went straight to Toby.

“Sam just called.”

“He did?” Toby put down the piece of paper he was holding and gave her his full attention.

“He wanted to make sure I kept Garner and Calley apart at the DSCC Dinner.”

Toby frowned. “The dinner that took place over two months ago?”

“Yeah.”

“That would have been good information to have two months ago.”

“Yeah,” CJ agreed remembering only too well the time it took to explain Garner’s refusal to shake hands with Calley which was wrongly interpreted as a sign of disapproval of Bartlet’s presence at the dinner.

“So he’s, what, checking where we’re up to?”

“No, I think that in terms of where we’re up to, Sam’s still in September.”

“It’s November.”

CJ nodded. “Not for Sam.”

When she left, Toby picked up his diary and flicked back to the weeks before the accident. He looked at all the addresses, speeches and remarks Sam would be thinking they still had to write. It was about this time of year he and Sam would start thinking about the State of the Union. Toby blew out a deep breath as he thought about going through that process without him. He wished Sam wouldn’t keep disappointing him like this. Just when he had managed to convince himself Sam was nearly back, he’d did something like this. He wished Sam had phoned him, not CJ.

By the beginning of the second week of Sam’s calls to CJ, she wished he was calling Toby too. She put the phone down after assuring Sam she would tell Josh not to meet with Bill Henney without getting the Market Access Committee onside first, and let her head fall to the desk. “Carol!” She sat up again on hearing the door open. “Get Josh and Toby here the first five minutes they have.”

After her meeting with Josh and Toby, CJ went with them to Leo’s office for what should have been a short meeting about final arrangements for a trip to California. It was Margaret who dropped the bombshell.

“The President’s double booked!”

Leo looked up at her and frowned. “Double booked? How does a president get double booked?”

“I guess the same way anyone does. Two events have been put in his diary for the same afternoon, except, when it’s a dentist or something it’s a lot easier to deal with because the two events probably aren’t in different states.” Margaret ended her explanation by putting the diary on Leo’s desk. “It’s a bit of a problem,” she added as if everyone in the room wasn’t already aware of that.

Leo put his glasses on, reached for the diary and sat down. “Okay so it comes down to who we want to offend the least.”

“I like this game,” Josh announced. “No, wait, I like the ‘who do we want to offend the most’ game.”

“So what are the choices?” Toby asked.

“We can offend the Workers of the American Cord & Webbing Company in Rhode Island, or we can offend Senator Boxton in California.”

“Do we need any cord and webbing?” Josh asked.

“We can probably afford to offend Rhode Island more than we can Senator Boxton.” Toby looked to CJ for his thoughts.

“Can we? What will make a better headline, senator snubbed or 254 workers snubbed?”

“They’re both pretty lame headlines,” Josh pointed out.

Leo leant forward and clasped his hands. “I don’t know, I think we have to go with the Senator on this one. We can reschedule the factory tour.”

Toby raised his eyebrows. “CJ’s right. It won’t play well if we don’t do the factory tour. This one could be biting us for some time. We’ve already cancelled the Milwaukee trip and you know how that went down.” 

“It’ll just cause a little noise, Toby, we can deal with that. Boxton’s noise could be kinda more damaging in the long run.”

“No one’s gonna care about us missing a dinner date. A lot of people are gonna care about us standing up over two hundred workers. Is there something going on here that I don’t know about?”

“There’s nothing going on. The President’s going to California. I can smooth things over in Rhode Island when I get back. It’s not as if-”

“Ah!” Toby, smacked his forehead. “I know what’s going on.”

“Well, you’re the only one who does!” Leo said, annoyed at being interrupted so dramatically.

Toby stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to Josh. “Leo thinks we should go to a dinner for a senator over all the positive media attention not to mention political gain a trip to the Cord webbing whatever, could gain us, which isn’t in California.” He looked at Josh knowingly. Josh looked at CJ in confusion. 

CJ glanced at Leo who was beginning to turn a little red. “I am a woman and unlike men we are able to be both incredibly intelligent and yet sensitive and in-tune with life’s softer moments. Leo’s choice is one not driven by intelligence but by a stronger force. A force that no man can reason with.”

Josh looked at Leo and was amazed to see the man he admired so much looking what Josh could only describe as sheepish. “CJ, would that force be the force of love?”

“It would, Joshua. Leo’s heart is being pulled towards California where Claire Seaborn is no doubt pining away as we speak.”

Josh nodded. “Love is a beautiful thing. What man can say he is wiser than a man in love when love itself is merely -”

“If I look up in the count of three and see anyone in my office the next thing you’ll be doing is packing your joke book in a cardboard box while being watched over by a secret service agent!” Leo’s redness was now caused by anger and CJ, Toby and Josh had probably not moved as quickly as they did to scramble out of his room for quite some time.

Later, Toby smiled to himself as the President’s schedule arrived on his desk. The Cord and Webbing factory tour safely back on the agenda.

Josh was tired when he arrived at Sam’s that night. He knew the plan: CJ would arrive, followed by Toby. Josh and Toby would go to a bar while CJ stayed with Sam and then they would both return and continue with the plan. It was a good plan as plans went. Not one of their best but then none of them were firing on all cylinders at the moment. Josh was worn out, Toby was fretting over the upcoming State of the Union and writing it without Sam and CJ was wearing herself out trying to keep all of them going.

None of them were as tired as Sam though. He seemed to be more exhausted as the days wore on and he continued to recover. To Josh it seemed that every step he made with his mental recovery was at the cost of his physical progress. Maybe that was how it was meant to be. The body could only heal one thing at a time and Josh decided he would rather have a worn out Sam than an energetic shadow of him.

Sam had had a shower and grabbed something to eat before CJ and Josh arrived. She walked into the living room, hugged him and then pulled a file from her briefcase. Sam watched as she moved a chair in front of him and sat down.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked as Josh joined them.

“I’m giving you a private press briefing,” CJ explained.

Sam raised his eyebrows to Josh as if suggesting a private briefing from CJ was something a lot of men would happily pay for. Josh was so happy to see Sam with an expression that wasn’t one of fear, confusion or indifference that he didn’t see CJ’s hand coming up to slap his head. “Ow! What was that for? Sam made the face!”

“You were nearer,” CJ explained.

Once Toby arrived, she hurried the two men out of the apartment and started to attempt to bring Sam up to speed with three months of events in one hour.

She started by showing Sam his diary. Telling him when he went into hospital and showing how the pages were blank not long after that. She explained what had happened with all the things he had been working on before the accident. Sam showed a mixture of surprise, resignation and pleasure as she continued to update him.

Occasionally he stopped her when he didn’t understand or didn’t remember what it was she was talking about. They stopped for coffee after a while and sat in silence. 

CJ knew that she was on shaky ground. They were still being advised not to talk about the accident and whilst Sam now knew that he had been in hospital because of an injury to his head, he didn’t know how the injury had happened. They had been told they could start to talk about work but they had been warned not to try to force memories or test Sam in any way. CJ looked at him sitting forward on the sofa staring into space. She wondered if bringing him up to date was a good idea or not. There wasn’t much he could do with the information and it might be upsetting him to realise just how much he’d missed.

“Sam, do you want to carry on?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just weird to think all this happened while I was in hospital. I don’t understand why I don’t remember it, why I didn’t watch the news or read a paper and why you didn’t tell me all this back then.” 

If the ground had been shaky before it was trembling now. Toby had told CJ about his conversation with the doctor about denial. Josh had said a few times that he was worried by some of the things Sam was saying and he was becoming convinced Sam was going to have a hard time accepting his brain injury. Looking at her friend now, CJ had to agree.

“We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want to worry you with work stuff. We just wanted you to concentrate on getting better.”

“You should have told me! You could have been keeping me up to date all this time. Don’t you want me to come back to work, is that it? Do you think I can’t do my job anymore?”

“God, Sam, no! No one thinks that! We can start giving you things to do if that’s what you want. I can phone you every day and keep you in the loop. Toby thinks you-”

“I don’t care what Toby thinks!” Sam looked at CJ as if surprised she would think he did.

“Okay.” She nodded slowly not sure why Sam had said that and not particularly keen to find out. “Do you want me to carry on?”

Sam nodded and scooted over so CJ could join him on the sofa. She finished and placed the file on the table then reached for Sam’s hand.

“Why don’t I know all that,” he waved a hand in the direction of the file. “Why can’t I remember? I know things, I mean I’m the man people come to when they want to know things aren’t I?”

CJ squeezed his hand. “You’re the go-to man, Sam.”

Sam smiled despite his frown. “I used to be. I remember...”

“What do you remember?”

“Me.”

CJ had promised herself she would remain detached tonight. She knew getting upset wouldn’t help Sam. She bit at her lip and forced her tears back. She couldn’t think of anything to say so instead she reached forwards and pulled Sam into a hug. They only broke apart when the sound of the door opening heralded Josh and Toby’s return.

“We have food from the finest pizzeria in DC!” Josh announced as he walked through the room on his way to the kitchen. Toby followed, catching CJ’s eye and nodding towards the kitchen. 

“How did it go?” 

“Amazingly well considering Sam clearly thinks he only doesn’t remember things that happened when he was in a coma.”

“Told you!” Josh said as he placed four plates on top of the boxes and went into the living room.

Toby looked helplessly at CJ and because she remembered what Sam had said about him and she knew how shattered he would be if he’d heard it, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before following Josh out of the room.

Sam ate little and said even less. Josh kept up a steady stream of chatter about the bar they’d been to and how he’d beaten Toby at pool but then he too fell silent. CJ gathered the empty boxes and went to make some coffee asking Josh to help her.

“Have you spoken to Dr Graham recently?” she asked as she filled the coffee machine.

“Last Tuesday. Sam’s got an appointment tomorrow and I said I’d go with him. Well, I promised Claire I would. Someone needs to be with him or, you know.”

“He forgets everything that’s said.”

“No, it’s not so much that he forgets anymore it’s more like he hears what he wants to hear. This is why I was, as is usually the case, completely correct in my theory about Sam’s denial.”

“They don’t call you Modest Josh for nothing.”

Josh smiled. He reached up and brought down four cups. “I’ll tell you something else; I think Sam’s going to remember the accident soon, I hear him at night, calling out. He’ll remember and when he does he’ll have to rethink this whole, ‘I think I must have tripped and knocked myself out’ theory.”

“Is that what he believes?”

“He doesn’t believe he nearly died in car crash that’s for sure.” Josh watched the last of the coffee drip into the jug. “The other night he told me that he was going to sue the hospital.”

“What for?”

“He thinks the medication he’s on is causing him problems with his short-term memory.” Josh shrugged and shook his head. “I’m going to talk to the doc tomorrow, see what he says.”

CJ sighed and leant against the counter. “God, this is just a nightmare.” She rubbed at her eyes and then went back to pouring the coffee but Josh stilled her hand.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Didn’t we just summarise the main points?”

“There’s something else. What happened tonight?”

She turned to face him. “Nothing, it was okay. Sam listened, made a few comments and got angry when I told him about the Fair Play Committee.”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad I didn’t have to tell him about that one! What else?”

“It’s probably nothing. I was trying to persuade him that we want him back at work and I was going to say about Toby wanting him to start looking at State of the Union memos but he interrupted me. He said he didn’t care what Toby thought.”

“Oh,” Josh said with a frown.

“Yeah. It was more than that though it was the way he looked at me as if it was ridiculous to even suggest he would care what Toby thinks.”

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘okay’ because I really didn’t want to hear what he might say if I pushed him.”

Josh linked his hands and rested them on his head. “Not good. There’s absolutely no way that can be good.”

“He said he remembers me.”

“He’s known who you are for weeks.”

“No, I meant he said he remembers who he was. He remembers him.” In some ways it was a good sign but Josh just looked incredibly sad. “I want you to know that I kissed Toby earlier because he looked sad and if I wasn’t carrying this tray right now I’d kiss you too.

“They don’t call you emotionally demonstrative CJ for nothing.”

“Open the door,” CJ ordered and Josh held it open for her and followed her back into the silent living room.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam picked up a magazine about cars, flicked through it, put it back on the table and sat down. He went over to the water cooler filled a cup of water which he downed, threw in the trashcan and returned to his seat. He was about to get up again when Josh put his arm out.

“Just sit down. Relax. Think of sailing or something.”

Sam sat back and closed his eyes.

“Sam Seaborn.”

He sprung up on hearing his name, knocking Josh sideways. They followed the nurse to Dr Graham’s office. Sam went straight to a seat in front of the desk while Josh shook the doctor’s hand.

“I’m sorry you had to wait. I had an emergency earlier so I’m running behind now.” He sat down at his desk and opened the file on it before turning to Sam. “So, Sam, how have you been?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good to hear. How’s it going being back at home?”

“Fine.”

Graham shot a glance at Josh. “Have you left the house apart from your visits here?”

“Yes.”

“Where have you been?”

“The mall, cinema, clothes store, I got a haircut, I went to a park.”

“What mall?”

“The one with all the shops,” Sam replied clearly growing irritated by the questions.

“What’s it called the mall you went to?”

Sam looked at Josh but he was staring straight ahead. “The town...town mall,” Sam sighed and rubbed at his head, “it’s a place, neighbourhood, starts with g.”

Josh bit his lip, desperately trying not to supply the word for Sam. 

“You’re nearly there,” encouraged Graham, “it’s something town mall.”

“Town mall, town mall, George! Georgetown Mall!”

“That’s it. What did you buy there?” 

“I didn’t. I don’t think I...Janet bought stuff I think. I don’t think I did too well.”

“How so?”

“It was busy.”

“Okay.” Graham looked down at his notes for a few moments. “Are you still getting headaches?”

“Yes, but that’s because I’m tired.”

“What’s making you tired?”

Josh closed his eyes, hoping in vain that Sam would reply that he was tired because he was recovering from a brain injury. 

“I’m tired because people keep visiting me and I have to let people stay in my house.”

Graham nodded. “We’ll run some tests now, Sam, the same ones as last time.” He showed Sam into a room further down the corridor and left him there with another doctor. 

When he returned to his office Josh was sitting with his head in his hands. He straightened when he heard Graham enter the room.

“Sam will be a while but that gives us a chance to talk.” Graham asked Josh how Sam really was. Josh told him the frequency and severity of the headaches, how much Sam was sleeping, what he was remembering, how he was coping at home and when he went out. Graham listened and nodded. “I know you’re not going to believe this but he’s doing well. It’s ama-”  
Josh’s look halted Graham. “Judging from your expression I shouldn’t say it’s amazing how well Sam is doing.”

Josh smiled. “No, you shouldn’t and every time someone says that I just want to point out to them that Sam was pretty amazing before the accident.”

“Noted. He is doing well though; you’ll just have to trust me on that. I told his boss that-”

“You spoke to Toby?”

“Toby Ziegler, yes, he came to see me. I told him that Sam had a long road ahead. He’s been in a certain amount of denial about the accident itself but now he’s clearly in complete denial about his injury and the impact it’s having on him. That said, it may be time to start talking to Sam about work, nothing heavy, no pressure, just something he can start to focus on. Maybe it would be a good idea to sort of brief him about what’s been going on.”

“Oh, yeah, okay that’s a good idea.” Josh pictured CJ’s briefing and continued to nod earnestly at Graham’s suggestion. By the time Sam returned, Josh was sitting outside the office reading the magazine discarded earlier. He watched as Sam said goodbye to Dr Graham. For a moment he wished he could stop thinking what the ‘old’ Sam would do and focus on his friend as he was. But it was no use, the old Sam would never have greeted and said goodbye to Graham without shaking his hand.

“Psst!”

Charlie looked up from his computer screen, listened for a while and looked back down.

“Psst!”

This time he stood and looked around him. He was greeted with a sight that he decided would be best left out of his memoirs: The President of the United States hiding from the head of his Secret Service detail. 

“Is Ron still in with Leo?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Come in here and don’t let anyone in to see me. Wait, that won’t work if you’re already in here.”

“No, sir.”

“Okay then, just come in here and we won’t answer if anyone knocks.”

“Another fine plan if I may say so.”

“You may. Talking of plans, how is yours going?”

Charlie followed Bartlet into the Oval Office and shut the door. “Which plan would that be?”

“Come, come, Charlie. These are the times etc, etc, your plan to arrange for me to see Sam without upsetting Abbey, Ron and possibly CJ.”

“Why CJ?”

“Observe the mother defending her cubs.”

“Ah!”

Bartlet sat down on a sofa and gestured for Charlie to do the same. His energy seemed suddenly spent and he stared at the carpet for a moment before looking at Charlie. “You understand all this plan stuff is really my way of dealing with a situation I have no control over and by forcing you to construct a plan that is doomed to failure, I’m allowing myself to feel some control.”

“I hadn’t worded it quite like that in my head but that’s pretty much what I was thinking.”

Bartlet smiled. “Pretty much, yeah.” He stood and rubbed his hands together. “This bit is going well, hiding from Ron, I mean.”

Before Charlie could answer there was a knock at the door. “Mr President, you have a briefing with Agents Butterfield and Smith at 10.00.”

Bartlet rolled his eyes. “We should do this again, Charlie. Maybe tomorrow we can hide from someone really important, a visiting ambassador or Head of State maybe?”

“Maybe, sir.” Charlie left the room and showed Ron in. Agent Smith had never been in the Oval Office before, he was impressed by the room but not as much as he was by the image of the President sitting behind his desk, a powerful man who was clearly in control.

After the hospital appointment, Josh and Sam went to a get a coffee. They stood on the sidewalk watching the passers-by. It was a quiet street and Sam seemed quite at ease. The traffic was beginning to build though and Josh wondered how long it would be before Sam became uncomfortable. 

Across the street a man was unloading a van. Josh watched as he carried boxes of fruit and vegetables into the store. A woman’s disobedient dog caused what happened next. If the dog hadn’t run out then the SUV wouldn’t have swerved and crashed straight into the back of the van. Tomatoes, oranges and apples rolled in all directions. One of which the dog picked up and went running with it back to its owner, dropping it at her feet as she stood staring in horror at the scene. The offered apple rolled away again but by now she had her wits about her and she leant down and put the collar on her pet. The car’s horn was blaring and was soon joined by the sound of sirens. The driver seemed dazed and not really aware of the torrent of abuse the delivery man was directing at him.

“I suppose that’s one way to make a smoothie,” Josh said. He turned to Sam to discover he was no longer standing beside him. The only evidence that remained of his presence was his cup of coffee which lay on the sidewalk its contents running into a drain.

“Sam!” Josh called his name and scanned the street. People had come out of shops at the sound of the crash and the sidewalk was now full. He looked up the street but decided Sam couldn’t have crossed in front of him without being seen so he went left and pushed through the crowd. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Sam’s number went straight to voicemail.

Josh didn’t know whether to carry on up the street, go the other way or just stay where he was and search the crowd. After a few moments scanning the faces before him he turned and headed back towards where he had parked his car. By the time he reached the parking lot his worry had turned to full blown panic. He tried Sam’s phone for the fourth time and then scrolled through the contacts until he found Toby.

“I lost Sam.”

Toby frowned and put down the papers he had been on his way to Bonnie with. “I don’t understand, you dropped him or something?”

“We were having a coffee, we’d just been to the hospital and we were having a coffee. There was this crash, across the street, a car crash and there was this crowd of people and Sam wasn’t standing there anymore.”

Toby’s initial sarcasm was replaced by concern on hearing Josh’s tone. “Okay, calm down, he can’t have got far. He probably just got turned around in the crowd or something.”

“Turned around, yeah, okay.” Josh listened to Toby while he searched the street. “I’m going to check here again. I’ll phone if I can’t find him.” He hung up, leaving Toby staring at the receiver.

Josh walked up and down, constantly phoning Sam in the vain hope he would hear the ringtone and find him that way. He passed a busy coffeehouse and realised he was back where they had been standing. Glancing around hopelessly, he saw what he had missed before; an alleyway at the side of the store. He pushed his way through the people still staring at the scene of the crash and walked towards it. The tall buildings on either side of the alley made the narrow, long, space darker than the street. Josh could see Sam though. At the very end, sitting against the wall, knees tucked up with his head in his hands. Josh approached slowly as he was pretty certain Sam was having some sort of flashback and knew what damage he could do to Sam or himself by startling him. 

“Sam.” He said the word slowly and calmly but he didn’t respond. Josh inched closer and sat down beside him and repeated his name. A shaky sigh was the only response and so Josh gently placed his hand on Sam’s arm. It was quickly shaken off and when Josh reached for Sam’s shoulder he found his wrist grabbed tightly and pushed down to the ground. They sat like that. Josh wasn’t sure if Sam’s hand was pushing him away or clinging onto him so he didn’t move and let the pressure around his wrist continue to either comfort Sam or provide him with a sense of control. Eventually the pressure ceased and Sam rested his hand on the ground. He leant back against the wall and sighed again but this time the sound was not as shaky. 

“Let’s go,” Josh said and they both stood and walked back up the alleyway. Sam slowed as they neared the street and the sight of the SUV. Josh told him to wait there and hurried off to get his car. He stopped and turned back as if checking Sam hadn’t disappeared again.

“Just get the car, I’m not going anywhere.” Sam stared at the scene across from him. The van driver was busy salvaging what he could of his load from the road. Someone had come out of the store and was sweeping up glass and bits of the taillight. Sam looked down and saw his discarded coffee cup. A brown river ran from it along the sidewalk. He bent down and picked it up aware that it was his but unable to remember why it was lying on the ground.

Josh pulled up beside him and reached over to open the door. He hid his surprise when Sam pushed it closed again and got into the back of the car. 

When they arrived at Sam’s, Josh went straight to the kitchen. He put two doughnuts on a tray with Sam’s pills and a glass of water. Sam was lying on the sofa but sat up on seeing the tray and gratefully took the headache pills. They ate in silence while Nickleby welcomed them home by rubbing against their legs, eventually settling on the sofa between them. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Josh asked. Nickleby looked up, realised he wasn’t talking to him, stretched and curled up again.

Sam shrugged. “I’m not really sure. It was a bit…” he shrugged again.

“It made you remember something, seeing that car crash I mean. It brought something back.”

Sam nodded and frowned. “It made me remember more. I already remembered some of the crash, the sounds, the-” he tutted and Josh told him to take his time. “I remember that woman...nurse, not a nurse a…” he closed his eyes, “paramedic. I remember her. For weeks I’ve been getting this sudden, I don’t know how to explain it, sudden rush towards me. It’s like something coming at me, always from the same side and it makes me jump. I was remembering the car hitting mine wasn’t I?”

Josh nodded. “I guess so, yeah.”

“I keep seeing this big spider web too, I couldn’t make sense of it but I know what it is now.” Sam reached over and scratched Nickleby’s chin. He smiled at the sound of the sleepy purr.

“What is it?”

Sam leant back and looked at Josh. “It’s the pattern of shattered glass. When I was in the car, I was staring at it. I saw the same thing on that car today.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah.”

“So, what else did you remember, today I mean, after the crash.”

Sam sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t think I remembered anything clearly. It was more, I don’t know, some of the images and things, it made sense of them.” Sam stood and walked over to the drinks cabinet. He wasn’t allowed to drink and had shown no interest in it but now he wanted one badly. He turned around and shook his head. “I can’t remember what I drink.”

“You drink Jack Daniels with Toby, beer with me and you’ve been known to have a cocktail with CJ.”

Sam pulled a face. “Only out of politeness.”

Josh smiled. “Sit down. I’ll make some coffee.”

Sam nodded and returned to the sofa. When Josh returned he reminded Sam what they had been talking about.

“I know what we were talking about I just don’t want to talk about it!” 

They finished the coffee in silence and then Sam stood again this time he walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back. He looked down at the street below. “I remember you being there, I remember your voice. I remember the glass; I remember being lifted up and being in a lot of pain.” He frowned. “Toby was there. Was he driving?”

“No, you were driving. There was no one else in the car.”

“Toby was in the car. He was shouting. Was he driving the other car?”

“No! God, no, why do you think that?”

Sam shrugged and dropped the curtain back into place. He didn’t turn around. “Who was driving the other car? There was another car wasn’t there?”

“It wasn’t your fault. There was another car that crashed into you. The driver is in prison.”

“Toby wasn’t in my car?”

“No, Sam. Me, CJ and Toby were there after the crash but we weren’t in the car.”

“Why were you there then?”

Josh could see Sam was shaking and he was rubbing at his head again.

“We’d met up for a drink. You left first, that’s all. The accident happened just a few seconds after you’d driven away.”

Sam walked over to the sofa and sat down but he was tense and Josh knew the conversation had gone as far as it should. “Why don’t you go lie down?”

“Why didn’t you stop it then if you could see me?”

“I think you should lie down. We can talk later.”

“Why c-couldn’t I st-stop it?”

Josh didn’t know why but he could picture CJ’s face quite clearly and she was extremely pissed off with him. He thought he was doing Sam some good but realised now it had gone too far. “Okay, I really think you need to lie down. We can talk later but your head is hurting, you’re shaking and you’re stuttering. All of these things come under the heading of ‘need to lie down’ in the Lyman book of nursing.”

Sam jumped up. “No! You need to tell me. I asked you why you couldn’t…I mean I asked you why I c-c-couldn’t…why it happened, why it didn’t…you didn’t…” 

Josh was relieved when Sam collapsed back onto the sofa again. He clutched at his head and groaned. 

Josh rushed to the kitchen and berated himself. “Oh nice work, Lyman, real good job there!” He picked up bottles of pills until he found what he was looking, went back into the room and forced them into Sam’s hand followed by a glass of water. Sam lay down on the sofa and Josh went back to his seat. He watched until Sam’s hand finally relaxed its tight grip of his hair and fell away onto the cushion beside his head.


	16. Chapter 16

A few days after Sam had seen the car crash with Josh, his dad came to stay. CJ visited but she said Sam’s dad thought it would be a good idea if he didn’t have any visits from his colleagues for a while. No one agreed but they didn’t push. CJ hadn’t been given any indication that Sam disagreed with his dad and so she told the others that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Josh was the least convinced but after his experience of what can happen when Sam is pushed too far he decided to go along with the no visit rule for a while. Or at least as long as Sam’s dad was there. No one wanted to be there when Sam remembered his dad was no longer living with his mom anyway.

They needn’t have worried, somewhere between Phillip Seaborn’s last visit and his current one, Sam had remembered his dad and mom were separated. Or as he had told Claire he had remembered his dad was a jackass. The memory came with no emotions it was just another fact recalled. This visit had gone better than the last and Phillip’s guilt at not being there at the beginning was lessened by the support he felt he was providing for his son now. He knew asking CJ and the others to stay away wasn’t fair just as he knew they were much more than colleagues, but he wanted the time alone with Sam without others telling him how his son was or how he should be with him.

Three days after Phillip had arrived Josh went to CJ’s office and shut the door behind him. He walked over to say hello to Gail and then turned a few sheets of paper on CJ’s desk towards him and scanned the contents. He picked up her handbag and pushed it under the desk mumbling something about trip hazards and then went over to her exercise bike and started pressing the buttons on the monitor.

“Josh!”

He jumped.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah.” He returned to the desk and put two pencils back into a pot.

“So help me, Josh, if you don’t sit down and spill whatever it is you need to talk-”

“Okay, okay, I’m sitting!” Josh sat back on the sofa. “I need to talk.”

“You don’t say!” CJ replied but she stood and walked over to the sofa. “What’s up?”

“Remember I told you about how I’d maybe pushed Sam a little too hard to remember some stuff and he didn’t react too well?”

“I remember everything that you do, Josh.”

“Man, you’re scary! The thing is, I didn’t tell you something because I wasn’t sure at the time but the more I think about it…”

CJ frowned and placed her hand on his arm. “Think about what?”

“Sam asked me if Toby was in the car with him.”

“That’s good isn’t it? Toby was in the car for a while.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too but he seemed convinced Toby was there and was shouting.”

“Maybe he heard him shouting at Kelly when he dragged the drunken bastard from his car.”

“Maybe.”

“What?”

“It’s just…he asked me if Toby was driving the other car.”

CJ whistled. “That’s not good.”

“No, and the more I think about I can’t help feeling that Sam has these memories of Toby shouting at him outside the bar but is jumbling them up with the crash.”

I don’t care what Toby thinks! Sam’s words came back to CJ and she frowned. “Maybe Sam won’t remember what happened before the crash and we’re worrying for nothing.”

“But that’s just it. Sam doesn’t remember any of that stuff but he has all these feelings about Toby who he can’t seem to remember as the friend he was. And what’s with that anyway? He can remember me and you, Charlie, Donna and Ginger but he still can’t really remember working with Toby.”

“I don’t know. Do you think he’s pretending not to remember?”

“No. I think he’s scared to.”

CJ nodded. Her gaze turned to Gail, happily swimming around the fishbowl before she sat up straighter and turned to Josh. “Then in that case it’s time to start pushing.”

“I thought we weren’t meant to push.”

“We weren’t meant to push about the crash,” she shot a pointed look at Josh, “but we can push about work. You told me the doc said it was time for that.”

“Yeah.” Josh looked at his hands and then followed CJ’s gaze which had returned to Gail. “Goldfish only have a five second memory.”

“That’s not been proven.”

“Well yeah, because the other well-known fact about goldfish is they can’t talk.”

“Gail remembers me. She greets me in the morning.”

“She greets you. A goldfish greets you. What does she do wave her fin?”

“Her subtleties would be lost on you but we have a connection.”

Josh shook his head sadly. “And I was about to say what a wise and compassionate woman you are and then you start with the goldfish greeting.”

CJ stood and walked over to her desk. “I’m going to ignore you until staff and that will be difficult for you because I know Leo wants to talk to you about the Stafford meeting and I know you know nothing about it.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, me and Gail. Gail and I. We know everything.”

Josh feigned nonchalance and walked out of the office. He caught up with Donna in the Bullpen. “I need to know everything there is to know about Stafford’s treasury meeting before staff.”

Donna responded by telling him his tie didn’t go with his suit and then hurried off to complete her task.

Phillip Seaborn had been gone for two days. Sam’s time was filled with two hospital appointments, trips to the mall and a museum with Janet and a visit from Darren. Darren knew his feelings of guilt were ridiculous but he carried them anyway: if only he had stayed with Sam and his friends that night at the bar; if only he had taken Sam with him when he left; if only he had not arranged to meet Sam. If only. Darren had been warned not to talk abut the events leading up to the crash or any of the events of that day. He was glad not to. He was glad of any reason not to start the ‘if only’ train of thought.

He had spent an afternoon with Sam and had promised Josh he would stay until he arrived. Having spent over a week away from Sam, Josh’s anxiety was reaching levels even Donna couldn’t cope with.

Darren was relieved when he heard the key in the door. He didn’t mind being with Sam but he felt he was only a few seconds away from blurting out an ‘if only’. He hated seeing his friend like this and he hated even more that there was nothing he could do about it.

Josh showered and changed while Darren said his goodbyes. Josh was nervous about seeing Sam. He had convinced himself Sam would have made more progress since the last time he saw him. He was disappointed when he realised if anything Sam seemed more tired and distant. 

“How was your dad?” he asked as he rubbed a towel over his hair.

“Good.” Sam turned from him and walked into the kitchen. Josh followed.

“That’s good. How was Darren?”

“You were here, you saw him! Am I meant to answer twenty fucking questions every time I see you?”

Josh went back to the spare room and looked for a sweatshirt he’d packed. He waited for a few moments and then returned to the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” Sam asked as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah, I had something earlier.” He tried to think of something to say that wasn’t a question but couldn’t so he stayed quiet. He watched as Sam prepared his meal. Able to attend to highly familiar tasks in a non-distraction environment for at least thirty minutes with minimal assist to complete tasks. Level seven Josh thought. He wasn’t concerned about how Sam coped in a non-distraction environment though. It was the distracting environment he was worried about. He couldn’t think of a more distracting environment than the West Wing.

Suddenly he thought of something to say that wasn’t a question. “CJ and Toby are coming over later.” He realised at once that he would have been better phrasing it as a question.

“Great! Is there anyone else coming? Should I try and make my pasta stretch to four? I tell you what, why don’t you put a visitor book by the door then people can just sign in and out as they want. Hotel Freak Show, entertainment on the hour and pasta served at seven!” 

Sam was the one who’d had the rant but it was Josh who was red-faced. “You’re not a freak show. Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that again!”

Sam frowned at him and nodded.

“Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, not a freak show, got it.” Sam returned his attention to the stove. Josh shook his head and sighed.

“Christ, Sam, is that how you feel? Do you think we come here because we-”

“Alright, Josh, I’ve got it. Not a freak show!”

Josh nodded. “Well good, don’t forget it!”

Sam licked some sauce from his finger and finished draining the pasta. “So, CJ and Toby?”

“Yeah, they thought they might come over, if it’s okay with you? I can call them and cancel.”

Sam picked up his plate. “No, it’s fine.” He walked past Josh leaving him sitting alone at the kitchen table.

That morning, Toby had called James Dalton into his office and handed him a stack of memos that he had received following a round of budget meetings. This was the first step towards writing the State of the Union and once begun the process would quickly gather pace until there would be nothing Toby would read, write or say that wasn’t about it. James had looked daunted by the task ahead. Toby had given him no indication of the trepidation he felt at facing it for the first time without Sam. 

Now he was sitting in Sam’s living room listening to Josh describing his meeting with the Russian Ambassador and watching Sam. It was a funny story and Josh was telling it well but it was clear Sam wasn’t really listening. Toby watched as Sam’s attention wandered from Josh to the TV which was on but muted, to Nickleby who was sitting on CJ’s lap and then back to Josh. He laughed when the others did as he had become very good at pretending to know what was going on. He rubbed at his head and when he thought no one was looking, he closed his eyes to the pain that was building. His gaze also settled every so often on Toby’s briefcase which was resting against the coffee table. A light from the laptop was flashing and a couple of files were poking out of the top.

Josh had stopped talking and was looking down at his glass smiling at his own story.  
A pointed look from CJ spurred him back into action. “How’s the prep for the State of the Union going?”

Toby heard his cue and replied, “We’re nearly done on the first section and by section I mean sentence. James is looking at a couple of health care memos.” He glanced at Sam. There was no reaction.

“How’s James coping?” CJ asked.

“He’s coping because he thinks this is going to be the hardest part.” 

Josh frowned. When they’d rehearsed this earlier, Sam had joined the conversation by now. His next line was to say how he remembered writing a State of the Union and he’d be happy to help Toby out, maybe even come into work for a few hours. Of course, Sam hadn’t been at the rehearsal so all Josh and Toby could do was carry on talking about the State of the Union in the hope Sam would join in.

Although he was showing no reaction to their words, Sam was listening and as he listened words and images started to flash through his mind. He closed his eyes willing them to stop. He didn’t like it when this happened and it was happening more and more lately. The memories were insistent. 

Tell C.J. the green light on the Blue Ribbon. She’ll know what it means.

Don't ask me how it's going. It's in the larva stage. You can't rush these things. It's not like putting a hammer to a nail. I need some pie.

The dials were what we thought. We'll wait for the overnights.

Then we have The President's First Thoughts meeting. That's when we all want to kill ourselves.

You know, a lot of people assumed you were hired because you’re a blonde, republican sex kitten and they were obviously wrong. 

I think you should. I think ambition is good. I think overreaching is good. I think   
giving people a vision of government that's more than Social Security checks and debt   
reduction is good. 

Somebody get these guys some pie.

Sam shot to his feet; his eyes darted around the room. He was obviously confused but the cause of his confusion wasn’t clear to his friends. CJ placed Nickleby on the ground and walked over to him. She touched his arm and was surprised when he jumped at the action. He shot her an apologetic glance and then hurried away to the kitchen. 

CJ looked at Josh then Toby. “Well, someone needs to go after him!”

Nickleby scratched an ear, licked his paw and then made his way to the kitchen. “Impressive but I really think it needs to be a human.”

Josh nodded and sat forward but did not stand. The sound of cat food being poured into a bowl came from the kitchen. “Maybe we should give Nickleby a few minutes?” To his and CJ’s surprise, his words were followed by the sight of Toby walking quietly out of the room.

When Toby opened the door he saw Sam sitting on the floor watching Nickleby finishing off the food. He looked up at Toby and nodded towards a chair. Toby sat and waited. Nickleby looked for more food, realised none was coming and jumped up on another chair to start his cleaning ritual. 

Sam stood slowly and leant against the countertop. “I had a car crash. I was ill for a long time and now I can’t remember anything. That’s pretty much it isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Now Toby nodded to a chair and Sam walked over and sat beside him. “You had a crash which wasn’t your fault. You had a head injury, which is why you’re having trouble remembering things. But, you’re recovering more quickly than anyone thought you would and there’s no reason why you won’t make a full recovery. You’re remembering more every day aren’t you?”

Sam nodded.

“You were remembering things back in there weren’t you.”

Sam nodded again. “It’s just flashes of words and images but the images don’t go with the words. I don’t know if I said the things I remember or heard them said. I hate it, Toby, it scares the crap out of me. I don’t know if they’re just snatches of the me I’ll never get back. It’s like my brain’s taunting me or something.”

“Tell me what you remembered,” Toby said careful not to show his reaction to hearing Sam calling him by his name.

“Your subtle plan to get me to talk about the State of the Union worked in a way. I mean hearing you talk about it like that brought back all this…” Sam rubbed at his eyes. “Lisa asking me questions, Ainsley dancing, CJ in that dressing gown and Joey signing me numbers.”

“CJ sat in paint. That was our second State of the Union. She sat in paint and did the TV interviews with a bathrobe around her waist.”

Sam smiled. “I remember.” He looked down at his hands which were folded in front of him, resting on the table. “I was ill.”

“You could have died. For a while there we thought we were going to lose you.”

“You have lost me.” Toby started to object but Sam cut him off. “I’ve lost me.”

“No you haven’t. It’s like our talent; it’s never lost, just misplaced.”

Sam smiled again. Toby wanted to rush back into to the living room and yell, ‘I made him smile. Twice!’ he stayed where he was, watching Sam. Relieved Sam was beginning to remember but dreading what those memories would bring.


	17. Chapter 17

To say Claire Seaborn was anxious as she got out of the cab outside Sam’s apartment would be an understatement. She was panic ridden. On the flight from California she had managed to convince herself that everyone had been lying to her over the past few weeks and she would arrive to find Sam in a state worse than she had left him and that it would be entirely due to her leaving him to fend for himself. She ran up the steps and took advantage of a resident leaving the building to dive through the doors and straight to the elevator.

She waited impatiently for her son to open the door. A warm greeting and promise of lunch prepared for her arrival did nothing to dispel her fears. She felt at Sam’s forehead, checked his medications in the kitchen, looked at the contents of the fridge and then slowed enough to actually study him. “You’re not eating!”

Sam frowned at her and folded his arms. “How much weight have I put on since you left?”

“None, you’ve put none on, you’ve lost weight!”

He shook his head. “Have you any idea how much food I’ve had to eat to keep everyone happy? Do you have any concept of the number of homemade dishes, wholesome soups and truly ridiculous sized portions of cake I’ve consumed? I have lost many things since you last saw me but believe you me, weight is not one of them.”

Claire realised her heart was racing. It had been due to her anxiety but now the cause was much more welcome. Sam sounded like Sam. Josh hadn’t been lying to her. Leo had not been trying to make her feel better. Dr Graham had not been withholding information. Sam sounded like Sam and it made her want to cry and clutch him to her. Normality, that was what she was meant to ensure Sam experienced, and so she let her breathing relax, cocked her head to one side and smiled. “You’ve put on weight.”

“Yes, and this is why I’ve prepared a salad for lunch that is both nutritious and filling.”

They ate in the kitchen. Claire took the opportunity to study Sam closely. He did look better physically. He had put on weight but then he had lost so much before that he was still nowhere near his pre-accident physique.

They took their coffee into the living room and Sam produced a piece of paper. Claire wasn’t staying with him and had asked him to book a hotel for her. Dr Graham had suggested it. He said it would be a valuable independent task for Sam to help gauge his progress. 

Claire went along with the idea. It made her feel uncomfortable asking Sam to do things without telling him the real reason but she knew it was ultimately for his own good. She took the reservation from him and scanned the details relieved that Sam had booked her a double, non smoking room in a hotel close to his apartment. 

“Did I pass?”

Claire tried for an expression of incomprehension.

“I knew it was a test.” Sam shrugged. “I’m given a lot of tests.”

“Like what?”

“Like, Janet pretending to forget something in a store and telling me to meet her at the car, like Josh reading a report to me, pretending he’s lost it the next morning and asking me to tell him the key points, and like you asking me to book a hotel for you because your laptop’s broken. If I wasn’t so desperate to pass the tests I’d take great amusement from pointing out how obvious you’re all being with your scenarios.” 

Claire watched him as he surfed channels until he found something they could both enjoy. He definitely seemed better than he had. He’d jumped when she’d dropped a plate on the floor and couldn’t cope with the television being on when he was on the phone to a friend, but apart from that he definitely seemed better. Leo had told her that something had happened last week, something with Josh. He hadn’t told her more than that knowing that Josh would want to talk to her himself.

She looked around the room. It was neat and clean. It hadn’t been for a long while. At least not as tidy as Sam normally kept it. There was something wrong though, a piece of furniture moved maybe or something added. She looked around again and realised there was a space where the bar cabinet had been. She waited for Sam to come back from the kitchen where he had gone to get some ice-cream before asking. “I was trying to figure out what was different and then realised your bar cabinet has gone. Why did you get rid of it?”

Sam put the ice-cream on the table. “I forgot the spoons.” He went back to the kitchen and took longer than Claire thought was necessary but she waited patiently. He returned to the room and put the spoons next to the ice-cream. “I don’t want to talk about the bar cabinet.” His demeanour had changed now. He seemed unsure of himself, nervous. He started to rub at his forehead, a motion Claire had come to hate as much as Josh did.

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me. Sit down, you can tell me later.”

Sam nodded and sat back down. Claire reminded him of the ice-cream that sat on the table in front of them and he reached for the bowls. They ate in silence.

Josh read the page on his screen and then scrolled back to the start again. It was the third time he had tried to read it but each time his thoughts had wandered away from the health bill and back to Sam. He kept replaying the events of last weekend trying to decide if he had helped his friend or made things a hundred times worse. He closed the document and leant back in his chair. Helped, he decided. He had helped Sam to come to terms with the crash and accept that he was recovering from a brain injury. Worse, he decided. He had pushed Sam too far, caused him distress that he was meant to be helping him to avoid. He rubbed at his eyes and sighed deeply. 

When he opened them it was to the sight of Claire standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Josh. I hope you don’t mind; I was visiting Leo and he said I should come and talk to you.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Come in. take a seat. How was your flight? How’s Sam?”

Claire smiled at him and like Sam’s, her smile was disarming. “Thank you, my flight was good and Sam’s okay.”

Josh returned to his seat and sighed again. “Sorry. I’m a bit-”

“Busy, you’re very busy I know that. I know you’re tired as well and doing more than I can thank you for for Sam. You have something to tell me though. Sam won’t talk to me, not about that, not about whatever it is to do with the bar cabinet disappearing.”

“Ah, yeah, the bar cabinet.” Josh leaned forward resting his arms on the desk. “I thought what happened helped but now I’m not so sure.” He stared down at his hands for a while then started to talk. “It was last weekend. Sam had been really down but he was starting to show a real interest in work again. CJ had talked to him about what was going on and then a few days later Toby left some papers for him to look at, nothing much, just some comments for an address. Sam seemed keen to look at them. I thought we were really making some inroads.”

“Has he looked at them?” Toby was sitting on his sofa when Josh entered his office, pretending not to be willing Sam to phone with a catalogue of comments and suggestions. 

“You only left them last night, give him a chance!”

“He hasn’t phoned.”

“Toby! He’d be rusty this long out without all the brain stuff. He’ll look at them.”

Toby was clearly unconvinced but said no more about it. Josh changed the subject and both men pretended to have other things on their minds.

That afternoon, Josh phoned Sam on the pretence of asking if he wanted to watch the game later. Sam agreed and told him he’d order some food in. “Did you read-” Josh stopped himself and squeezed his eyes closed, “did you read Boswell’s column? He’s so on the money about Lee’s pitching.” Josh was pleased with his quick change of subject and ended the call before he could make another near blunder.

The day had dragged and Josh, despite his assurances to Toby earlier, was eager to see for himself if Sam had read the work left for him or even started to write something. 

When he arrived at Sam’s the sight that greeted him almost had him phoning Toby straight away to tell him how successful the plan had been. The floor was covered with files and documents. Sam’s laptop was on the coffee table a half-finished page of text awaiting the flashing curser’s next move. His briefcase was on the floor and a couple of box files that Josh recognised from the campaign where also open, their contents spread around the crowded carpet. 

Sam had called out to Josh to let himself in and he was sitting in the middle of the pile of papers, occasionally picking one up and placing it on another pile or putting it back into a box. Whatever he was, he was certainly not down. He seemed energised and Josh realised he hadn’t seen Sam like this for a long time, long before the accident even but that was a thought he decided was best tucked away for another time.

He walked over to the sofa, scooped a few files out of the way and sat down. He often wandered into Sam’s office to ask him what he was working on and he enjoyed being able to ask the question now. 

“Toby left some stuff for me so I started reading and then I remembered a speech we’d written a few months ago that had a section I wanted to check something on, then I found my old stuff from the campaign and started going through that. I’ve been trying to look for a quote that I know…” Sam stopped and scanned a piece of paper before throwing it onto what was clearly a pile of discarded documents, “I know we used this quote but not the whole thing and there was a line in there about freedom, the innocence of freedom, something like that and it’s just the…” again he stopped and read a few lines before adding the paper to the pile, “the quote was just the thing that the address needs to make the point about freedom that Toby’s put in the middle section. It’s just what he’s…” again another piece of paper stopped his words but this time Sam didn’t continue with his explanation. Josh watched as Sam scanned page after page growing more irritated at his inability to find the quote. 

As he watched, Josh realised with dismay that Sam had obviously spent most of his time looking for the quote. The text on the laptop screen wasn’t new but an old speech that Sam had opened. Toby’s files were on the dinner table and although Sam had obviously read them, his work on them had ended there.

“Why don’t you take a break? The game’s on in an hour. We can have something to eat then watch and work.”

Sam nodded distractedly and carried on with his search. 

“Or we could work then eat then watch?” Josh put his hands in his pockets and walked to the other side of the room. “When’s the food coming? Did you go for Tai?”

Sam’s hands stilled and he looked up at Josh. “I forgot. I forgot to order in.”

“Doesn’t matter, we can fix something here or I can go out for something.” 

“It does matter! I said I’d order something and I forgot. It was all I had to do and I forgot!” Josh held his hands out, a calming gesture but it was ignored. “It’s not like I had to remember to do anything except pick up a phone. I mean, how hard is it to remember to eat! Shit this is all fucked up! Why can’t I remember anything?” A flurry of paper danced in front of Josh. Sam must have enjoyed the sight as he repeated his kick of frustration into another pile. “And this is all bullshit as well. I can’t remember what I’m reading. I have to keep going back and reading it again and again.”

“Well that’s no big deal. I did that today when I was-”

“It is a big deal! God! Why do you say crap like that? You were sitting in your office working on something for the President of the United States that will make a difference. I was sitting on my sofa trying to read the same lines of a speech that CJ will probably tell me was given three months ago!”

“Toby hasn’t given you something that’s been done. He wants you to work on this stuff. He’s been staring at his phone all day waiting for you to ring and help him out.”

Josh closed his eyes to the sound of Sam’s hollow laughter, “Yeah, right, Josh, that’s exactly what Toby’s been doing.” He stormed out of the room and into his bedroom slamming the door behind him.

Josh stared at the closed door for a few moments and then phoned for pizza and bent down and started to pick up the papers. He recognised sentences and phrases here and there, words that Bartlet’s presidency would be remembered for long after Sam had left the White House. Papers fell out of one document and he picked up the top page. It was a daily schedule from the campaign. Down the side ran a column of figures and beneath them the words ‘Josh sucks at poker’ in Sam’s handwriting. Below the words he recognised his own signature. He smiled as he remembered the poker games they had played on the bus and in hotel rooms. He remembered boasting about his poker skills until Sam had produced the evidence of the true record of his defeats and made him read the words he had written and sign it. 

Josh sat up and rested his arms on his knees. Nickleby had a half-hearted sniff and rummage in the paper and then chose the thickest pile to lie on. “What do you think, should I go drag him out of his room?” Nickleby considered the question then stood, stretched out his back legs and yawned. 

Josh stood just as slowly, if a little less gracefully, and walked over to Sam’s room. He knocked and waited. There was no reply so he went to the kitchen. Josh was used to Sam’s mood swings and sudden rages being just as suddenly forgotten but this time Sam seemed as angry as he had in the living room. He joined Josh in the kitchen and leant against the doorjamb and folded his arms. “Why do you keep coming here?”

“There’s a game and pizza, where else would I be?”

“Why do you keep coming here, asking me how I feel, where I’ve been, whether I’ve eaten, if my head hurts, if I’m tired? Why?”

Because you’re not very well but you’re getting better. Because you were in a car crash and you need a help sometimes. Because you were in a coma and you get confused. Josh stared at Sam. “Because you have a brain injury and you’re not better yet so you need us to make sure you’re okay because if we didn’t you’d have to go back to the rehab centre.”

“I had a car crash. I hurt my ankle and I was in a coma. That’s all. That’s it. I’m better and all you’re doing is stopping me from working and trying to keep me at home and I don’t know why you’re doing that.”

Josh took a step towards Sam. “You have a brain injury and you’re not better yet. You were in a coma and you hurt your ankle but the worst injury you had was to your brain. You forget things. You panic. You don’t like to go outside. You can’t cope with noise. You can’t control your emotions. You’re not better yet.” Josh realised his fist was clenched and he loosened it and took a deep breath.

Sam was shaking his head and staring at Josh with a look of disbelief. “I was in a coma, Josh, that’s all, and I have to say if you think you’re helping you’re not. None of this is helping. I just need some time, just a bit more time to get things straight because they’re muddled, sometimes, but if everyone would just leave me alone I’d get things straight and then I’d be okay.”

The buzzer sounded and Josh reached into his pocket and walked towards the door. He took the pizza quickly thrust some notes in the guy’s hand and told him to keep the change. Sam followed him into the kitchen. He was staring at the boxes. “Why did you pay? I’ve ordered Chinese. I’ve paid for it already.”

“No, you didn’t. You said you would order for us but you forgot to.”

“No, I didn’t! I ordered.” Sam went to the sofa and picked up his cell phone, “look, here,” he scrolled through the calls made trying to find the number of the restaurant he’d used. “I phoned tonight, just before you came.” 

Josh grabbed the cell phone from his hand and tossed it back onto the sofa. “No you didn’t, you forgot! You forget things!”

“Stop saying that! I don’t forget things I just get a bit confused and is it any fucking wonder when everyone keeps telling me I’m ill all the time!”

“That’s because you are ill! You have a brain injury. You smashed your foot up and I threw up on the sidewalk when I watched them wrench the car away from it. You were in a coma and we all thought you were going to die. Then when you came out of the coma you didn’t know anyone, couldn’t remember anything. You’ve been ill for months and most of it you can’t even remember.”

Josh realised with some surprise that he was shouting. His heart was racing and the patience he had held onto over the last few months had deserted him. He wanted to grab Sam and shake him until he could understand exactly what was happening to him, to all of them. He ran his hand over his head and forced himself to calm down. When he looked up, Sam was backing away from him and shaking his head. 

“Sam?”

“Get out.” 

“No, we need to talk. I’m sorry about the shouting. I just-”

“Get out!”

Josh thought Sam was angry with him but there was something about the way Sam was telling him to go that was unnerving. It was almost like he was warning him away rather than wanting him gone. Josh moved towards Sam but he darted out of his grasp. 

“Please, Josh, please go. I have to think…I have to…” He hit the corner of the coffee table and stumbled, still walking backwards. “I’m ill…I’m…” he moved behind the sofa and edged further away, “I’m not well, I’m ill. I have to think, I can’t think when you’re shouting…don’t shout.”

Josh put some distance between them. “I won’t shout but I’m not going.”

“No, you have to go. Why won’t you go? I want to think.” Sam crumpled onto the floor and started moving piles of paper around. That was all he was achieving, there was no clear reason for his actions.

Slowly Josh moved nearer to him, “Let me help you.” He crouched down and started to tidy the paper into piles.

Sam seemed unaware of his presence. Nickleby, upset by the tension left his paper bed and escaped to the kitchen. Sam’s hands were shaking. Josh watched as pieces of paper slipped from them and fluttered to the floor. Suddenly Sam stopped moving, let the rest of the papers fall around him, and picked up a pile and ripped it to shreds. Another pile of paper and then another were torn into pieces before Josh reached forwards and grabbed his hands. 

“Get off! It’s all crap. What’s the point…can’t remember…can’t work…can’t think.”

Sam grabbed another pile. Josh could just make out the words ‘at poker’ and felt a sudden desperation for that sheet not to be destroyed. He pulled it out of Sam’s hands and the two men played tug-of-war before the inevitable ripping sound came. Sam sprung to his feet and started to pace. He was rubbing furiously at his head and mumbling words that Josh couldn’t make out. For a fleeting moment Josh thought about going, running away from whatever was to come. He stared helplessly at his friend and tried to think calmly about what to do next.


	18. Chapter 18

Sorry for not keeping up posting- considering this fic was written years ago I have absolutely no excuse!

Josh didn’t have to make a decision about what to do next. Sam made it for him. He no longer had anywhere to take his anger, confusion and frustration and so he let it take him. He started on the papers but the effect of kicking them around the room soon lost its impact and he turned his attention to the bar cabinet. The sturdy, wooden legs and top were undamaged by Sam’s kick to its side but the glass top came away easily and created a very satisfying crash as it hit the floor. Bottles and glasses added to the crashing of the cabinet’s glass and even Sam was stilled momentarily by the spectacular sound. Before he could move towards another piece of furniture, Josh grabbed hold of him and took them both to the floor. He tried to hold him there, fix him in stillness but Sam wriggled free and shuffled towards the wall. Josh stayed where he was and started to speak, calming words designed to break through Sam’s loss of control. As he started to speak he was silenced by Sam. “Don’t say a word. Not one word! Don’t say it’s alright or I need to calm down or that I’m ill but I’m getting better. Don’t say anything!” Josh nodded, quick movements of his head, happy to do anything Sam wanted so long as it stopped him from continuing to trash his apartment. He kept staring at him though willing his frantic breaths and shaking body to still. 

Sam didn’t calm down. If anything he grew more agitated. He moved to a kneeling position and then placed his hand on the wall to steady himself as he heaved his exhausted body upwards. He walked away from Josh but any direction he had in mind soon turned to endless pacing. Up and down, up and down, unaware of Josh moving nearer to him. When he suddenly sprung around he almost knocked Josh over. “I can’t do this,” he announced as he pushed past Josh. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Doing what?” Josh asked helplessly.

“This! Getting better, recovering, whatever the hell it is I’m doing. I can’t remember anything! I don’t know who I’m meant to be!” Shaking, breathing rapidly and shouting. This, Josh decided, was very, very bad. He took a small step towards Sam but that was all he dared. He had no words that weren’t clichés or crass words of comfort so he didn’t dare speak.

“What, you’ve got nothing to say? Now when I really need an answer you’ve got nothing!”

The only thing Josh could think of to say was that Sam didn’t stutter or forget as much when he was angry but he didn’t think that would be of much help. For the first time since he’d watched his friend wake from a coma, he had nothing for Sam at all.

“Nothing!” Sam spat the word at Josh and then suddenly finding a direction to go in, headed for the door. He made it out of the apartment before Josh had time to stop him and was halfway along the corridor before he could catch up. He grabbed at Sam’s elbow but he was moving too quickly and easily shrugged him off. Josh sprinted ahead of him and blocked his path. 

“You need to go back to your apartment. I don’t care where you think you’re headed or if you need space or even if you want me gone, that’s where you’re going.”

Sam tried to push past but it was a half-hearted attempt. He didn’t want to go outside. He wasn’t really all that comfortable in the hallway. He knew he should let Josh take control but a part of him didn’t want to surrender just yet. If his head hadn’t been spinning so much and he wasn’t using his last reserves of energy to keep upright, he probably would have come up with a much more articulate explanation for his wish to stay in the hall. In the end, ‘fuck you’ was all he could muster.

Josh raised his eyebrows. “Okay, but you realise if I let go now you’re gonna fall down.”

Sam shook his head, shrugged Josh off and determinedly walked slowly back to his apartment.

He made it as far as the sofa before his strength left him and he staggered, clutched the back of it and crumpled to the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Josh slowly walked towards him as Nickleby watched from the safety of the kitchen. As if he was afraid Sam would shatter like the glass on the cabinet, Josh reached out a tentative hand to his shoulder. When Sam allowed the contact, Josh lowered himself to the floor beside him. At first he thought Sam was taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, but then he realised he was crying. He sat still for a moment not sure if Sam wanted him there or not, not sure if he wanted to be there or not. Slowly he reached out again to place a hand on Sam’s shoulder and again the contact was allowed, was sought. 

Josh didn’t know how long they sat like that. Sam curled up, Josh cradling him, mumbling words of comfort in the hope he could drown out Sam’s words of despair. Eventually, Sam’s sobs lessened, both men stopped talking and Sam moved away from him, wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater and sighed deeply. Josh was surprised to find he had tears of his own to wipe away. Neither man spoke. Sam let his head fall back against the sofa and sighed again. 

“Why do you keep coming here?” he asked, tuning towards Josh.

“I don’t…what do you mean? I’m trying to help you.”

“But you can’t.”

“No such word in the Lyman dictionary. I’m a can do kind of guy.”

Josh’s attempt at humour was lost on Sam. “You’re trying to put me back together but you can’t because you don’t know what’s missing, what pieces I mean, what pieces of me. I don’t know so how can you?”

“I know what’s missing. You just have to trust me on that.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

“Sam! Come on man, it’s me!”

“You’re lying to me. You’re not telling me something, you’re holding back.”

“No I’m not. I’ve been nothing but straight with you.”

“Then why do I feel like…”

“Like what?”

Sam rubbed at his forehead and grimaced.

“Like what, Sam?” 

Sam turned to him, looking confused. “What?”

“You said you think I’m holding back on you. You were about to explain.”

“The man who caused the crash, you said he’s in prison right?”

Josh frowned almost unable to keep up with the flitting direction of the conversation. “Yeah, he’s in prison.”

“I was driving away, only really just got going you said, I was driving and he came through the lights and my car went into the wall.”

Josh nodded slowly.

“I went, what, sideways?”

“Yeah, his car hit the side of yours and slammed you into the wall. His sort of, I don’t know, sort of bounced back.”

“So what I’ve been thinking about, trying to get straight, is why I hit my head, I mean if I was going sideways the force should have-” Sam rubbed at his head again, his hand was shaking, “how… I know that I…” Josh waited patiently hoping this wasn’t leading to where he thought it was. “People get head injuries from car crashes I know that but I can’t have been going very fast if I’d only just driven off and Doctor…the neurolo…the one who…damn it!” He kicked out at one of the few remaining upright pieces of furniture. 

“Dr Graham.”

“Yes, him, he said the injury was to the front of my head so how, I don’t understand how that happened.”

Josh knew this wasn’t what Sam had meant when he said Josh was keeping something from him. The conversation had been too confused for that. He also knew that it had hurt him to hear Sam say it and to hold back now would be proving him right. “You weren’t wearing a seatbelt.” There, said, out in the open.

“What?” A small bubble of laughter escaped Sam born of disbelief more than humour. 

“When I got to you, you weren’t wearing your seatbelt.”

“Why?” Sam shook his head. “Why wouldn’t I? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.” Although it made perfect sense to Josh, he’d watch Sam slam the car door, upset and keen to get as far away from Toby as quickly as possible. He knew Sam would have pulled the belt on as soon as he’d slowed at the lights but by then it was too late. But, hurt as he had been by Sam thinking he was keeping things from him, there was no way on earth he was about to reveal any more of the truth to him just now.

Sam raised his arm to the top of the sofa and pulled himself up. He stumbled a little and looked far too pale for Josh’s liking. “Night.”

“Night? Don’t you want to talk some more or just maybe sit and, I don’t know, chill before you turn in?”

Sam shook his head, the movement obviously increasing the dull ache and walked to his bedroom. Josh watched as the door closed, was scratched on by Nickleby, opened enough for him to enter then closed again.

It took Josh over an hour to sort out the mess in the living room. He cleared all the glass off the floor then started putting Sam’s papers back into some sort of order, occasionally stopping to shake glass from them. He righted the coffee table and did the best he could for the coffee stain on the carpet and then he picked up everything that had been on the table and put them back where he thought they went. The bar cabinet was clearly beyond repair and so Josh stacked what was left of it by the door. Luckily the bottles had thoughtfully spilled their contents onto a rug that Josh put into the bath to soak. When he was finished he grabbed a beer from the fridge and collapsed on the sofa. He took a few swigs and sat quietly, peeling the label from the bottle. He tried to straighten his shirt where Sam had held it whilst he had held him but Sam’s grip had been so tight the material refused to unfurl from its rumpled state. Once the bottle was half empty and a pile of shredded paper lay on the arm of the sofa, Josh had decided what to do and he put the bottle down and walked over to Sam’s room. He knew he wasn’t asleep. There had been too many noises coming from the room for that. He hesitated before knocking, his hand wavering at the door. Maybe Nickleby had been making the noises. Josh shook his head and frowned at his hesitancy. His knock seemed to boom around the apartment. Sam called out to him to go away so Josh knocked again.

“Go away, Josh!”

Josh bit his lip. Sam sounded okay and he obviously didn’t want to be disturbed. He could stay the night and see how Sam was in the morning. That would be the sensible thing to do. He knocked again. He took an involuntary step back at the sound of Sam’s cry of annoyance and approaching footsteps. “I can’t believe that go away is a phrase you’re unfamiliar with!” Sam said as he opened the door. Nickleby, who was beginning to get a little annoyed at the unstable atmosphere, darted between his legs and back to the safety of the kitchen.

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were a bit…and I was bit…you know,” Josh finished lamely.

Sam hung his head and sighed. “I know.” He turned away and went back into his room but the door remained open.

Josh followed him and instantly saw the source of the noises. Scattered around the floor was the contents of Sam’s wardrobe. Not clothes, but all the items from the top shelf. Old photo albums, a box of medals and trophies, a stack of letters tied with an old shoelace and a pile of Sailing Magazines dating back, according to the issue on top of the pile, to 1966.

Sam sat down on the floor amidst the memories and pulled a trophy out of a box. He told Josh he’d won it when he was nine for spelling. He remembered his mom bought him a tie to wear at the ceremony with tiny letters on it. More for something to say than any other reason, Josh asked him if he still had the tie. Sam leaned over to a drawer, rummaged for a while and pulled it out.

“Do you keep absolutely everything you’ve ever owned?” Josh was relieved to see Sam smile before he told him that it appeared he did.

They sat in silence for a while, both men occasionally pulling something out of a box or off a pile which generated a short conversation or comment. Josh was enjoying this trip down memory lane. Many of Sam’s possessions took him back to his own childhood. It was certainly having a calming effect on Sam and Josh soon realised why. 

“I can remember all this stuff. I mean I can remember it happening, how I felt, where I was, who I was with. Mom said I was like I was when I was little when I was in the hospital. She said I kept drawing the Apollo 11 spacecraft.” 

Josh nodded and waited. 

“I can’t live here.”

“What, in this apartment?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “Sorry, I mean here,” he gestured to the boxes, “in the past.”

Josh sat up, his knees creaking in protest. “You don’t have to live in the past, you have a present, you just can’t reach it right now.”

“You have my present. I don’t. You tell me I work in the White House, you tell me I’m important and people respect me and I do a good job. It’s your present, not mine. My present is made up of cine film clips of a child I remember and images of a man I don’t.” 

Sam waited for Josh to respond and frowned as he held up his hand indicating Sam should continue to wait. Finally, Josh shook his head shrugged. “I was going to do an analogy, you know about cine film and pieces of film being like a whole roll of film and how scenes from that can, you know, make the whole.”

“You were going to do an analogy?”

Josh nodded.

“You don’t do analogies, you make them.” 

“Okay, memento boy.”

“I’ve just bared my soul and shared an extremely unmanly moment with you and you’re response is to think up a new nickname for me?”

Josh nodded earnestly and stated that was exactly what he was going to do. They started to put Sam’s various collections away. They both knew sleep would be a long time coming and so when they came across Sam’s collection of political pins it seemed to make perfect sense to take the box into the living room, make some fresh coffee and set about working out their value. 

By 3am they had discovered that Sam had over $800 worth of memorabilia. They had catalogued the collection in order of campaign and even taken photos of each badge. Josh decided that somewhere in the White House there must be a forgotten stash of old pins just tucked away waiting to be discovered. It was then that an idea started to form and Josh began to plot.

Claire had listened for over twenty minutes whilst Josh had spoken. Now she stood and walked over to the window. “I’m glad you were there. I’m glad Sam was able to share that with you.” She turned and looked straight at Josh. “I’ve been waiting for this, for Sam to finally admit he’s scared. You see, he’s not scared because he can’t remember who he was, he’s scared that he won’t be that man again.” Josh nodded. “Thank you, Josh.”

Josh shook his head and told Claire he had done nothing at all. He then looked at his watch. It was time for lunch. He suggested she let him buy some for her and followed her out of the room. Over lunch he would tell her about his plan and maybe then she really would have something to thank him for.


	19. Chapter 19

Donna walked into Josh’s office and closed the door behind her. “Sam called. He said he’s got his driver’s license back and wants to get a new car.”

Josh looked up at the news. “He said that?”

“Well, his exacts words were,” Donna leafed through her notepad, “I was thinking I might as well…I mean it could be time…good as time as any…anyway I was thinking…” Donna looked up, “This is where I interrupted Sam and pointed out I only had twenty pages left in my jotter. He then said, ‘Oh, well okay then, I was thinking I should get a car and maybe Josh could help me.’ That was where I laughed, and that was that. End of message.”

Josh spent a few minutes more than he had free explaining to Donna why he was the perfect car-buying buddy and then left, ignoring the sound of Donna’s laughter as he walked away. He’d had to check where the room he was heading to was. He’d been there a couple of times before but didn’t trust his memory of the corridors and stairs to get him there this time. Once there he introduced himself to Mike who, he was pleased to discover, had most of what he needed ready for him. 

“The stuff dated back to the campaign is in there,” Mike pointed to a large album on the desk, “this here through to this file is the first two years and then this file through to this one is everything since. Air Force One has its own file here and these boxes are foreign trips. Just fill in one of these slips for anything you want and I’ll organise copies, should be ready about tomorrow afternoon.” He blew out a big puff of air and put his hands on his hips. “Man, you’ve got your work cut out. I’d help but we’re putting together something on the First Lady’s dresses so…”

“No, this is great, thanks. I can take it from here. Good luck with the dress thing.”

Mike nodded, closed the door and left Josh alone.

Josh looked at the albums, files and boxes in front of him. For a moment he felt overwhelmed at his task, not knowing where to start. He told himself to start at the beginning and sat down, pulled a file open and got to work.

Toby had eaten two slices of pie and was still looking for something more. He wandered down to the deserted Mess and looked at the remains on offer. He decided against the Danish Pastries, dry-looking doughnuts and health bars and turned forlornly away from the counter. 

“No pie?”

The question startled Toby. He looked across the room and saw Leo sitting alone. He crossed the room to join him and stood by the table, hands in pockets.

“It appears I’ve eaten it all.”

Leo nodded. “How’s it going?”

Toby knew Leo wasn’t asking after things in general. The it referred to the State of the Union. “It needs more pie.”

A small smile played at Leo’s lips as he nodded. “Sit down, Toby, you look like you’re waiting to take my order.”

Toby pulled out a chair and sat. He told Leo he didn’t feel like talking and Leo said he wasn’t expecting him to. 

“I was thinking,” Toby began, making a lie of his earlier statement, “this is the first State of the Union I’ve written without him and you know, I was thinking, it’s not... There’s something missing, a rhythm or something.” 

Leo made a point of not looking up from his crossword, aware of how unusual it was for Toby to start a conversation like this. “You’ve got a good team, you’ve got James.”

Toby nodded. “Yeah, but I got no rhythm!”

“You should tell Sam that. Go see him, tell him.” Leo knew Toby hadn’t visited Sam for a while, was using work as an excuse.

“Maybe.” Toby agreed not sounding at all convinced. “Anyway, I should,” he gestured to the stairs. Leo nodded, and returned to the crossword, his gaze leaving it briefly to watch Toby walking away.

So far, the evening had been a success. Sam seemed much less tired than usual and was able to follow and join in the conversation. Josh occasionally saw him staring at Leo in bewilderment but he decided it was bewilderment of the ‘my boss is dating my mom’ kind rather than the head injury kind. Not long after the meal, Claire and Leo made their excuses and left. They left in separate cabs but Josh had no doubt where both cabs were heading.

He closed the curtain on the street below and turned to watch Sam clearing the table. Sam stopped and looked at him. “You can stay for the game but under no circumstances are you to mention my mom, Leo or any situation involving those two people.”

“Okay, but you have to admit-”

“I mean it, Josh!”

Josh held up his hands in surrender and took the opportunity of Sam leaving the room to get everything ready. By the time he returned with two beers, Josh had cleared what was left on the table and placed a large book on it. Sam walked over, handed him a beer and looked at the book. “What’s that?”

“That, my friend, is you!”

“It’s a book,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah. It’s a book about you.”

Josh realised Sam was slightly disappointed when he explained to him that someone hadn’t actually written a book about him but his disappointment turned to amusement when Josh told him that he had made the book.

Sam picked it up and ran his hand over the cover. “Samuel Norman Seaborn, The Story So Far.” He looked at Josh with a raised eyebrow.

“The title needs some work. I’m not sure it would fly off the shelves. It’s kind of a specialised subject.” Josh said.

Sam shook his head and took the book over to the sofa, placing his beer carefully on the footstool that had temporarily replaced the coffee table. He stared again at the cover and then opened the book. The first page was a picture of a street scene in New York. Sam looked at Josh. “Where it all began?” 

“Better than that, I found this cool site that had photos of that street dated for every single day since 1990. That picture was taken on the very day that I rescued you from a life of corporate law.”

“My hero,” Sam replied as he turned to the next page though his expression did not match the light sarcasm of his words. Filling the page was a photo of him on a bus early on in the campaign. He was asleep with his laptop lying open. Toby was sitting beside him, reading some notes and chewing on a pen. He stared at the picture for a while then flicked to the next page without comment. A tattered front page of a campaign schedule was next. He recognised his handwriting and peered at the list of numbers and initials. “To the untrained eye this could appear to be a code.”

Josh nodded. “I’m surprised it’s not blacked out.”

“CJ, DC, F, CS, P,” Sam read the first line of abbreviations and then continued, “JL, QPC, F, CC, NP.” He scooted over to let Josh sit down beside him. “You never paid me. CJ always paid me, Toby always paid me but you never did.”

“I always paid. It was Toby who used to pretend he didn’t have his wallet!”

Sam asked him what he thought NP meant and at Josh’s bemused shake of his head he read out the abbreviations in full. “Josh Lyman, Quarter Pounder with Cheese, Fries, Coca Cola, Not Paid!” he shook his head ruefully at Josh. “You never paid.” He turned to the next page which showed Josh and Sam sitting by a pool on a rare afternoon off. Leo was beside them sitting on the edge of a sunbed in his suit and tie. Sam was in swimming trunks but his pad and pencil were not far away. Josh was on his cell phone. Only CJ looked truly relaxed. The photo was accompanied by the first page of a draft that Sam and Toby had worked on. Red pen littered the page and Sam had drawn a boat in the margin, the sea drawn with neat, repetitive triangles. He read the first few lines and some of the comments. He turned to the next page and mumbled that he didn’t remember the speech.

The pages started to tell of his time in the White House, speeches, an Inaugural Ball menu, newspaper articles, official and private photographs all accompanied by a comment or anecdote from Josh. Sam laughed when he saw the map of the White House he and Josh had studied so studiously, big red crosses marking their offices but as he continued to turn the pages he grew silent. Josh was content to sit beside him watching different emotions flit across his face. 

A newspaper article and a photograph of Sam at one of the morning briefings was all Josh had included about Rosslyn. Sam shook his head. “Why can’t that be one of the things I’ve forgotten?” 

The next page was a photo of Sam, standing on the White House lawn, surrounded by children, wearing a superman costume and looking at CJ as if plotting ways to kill her. The photo was a candid shot that he hadn’t seen before. Josh had found it tucked into a folder named March –June, Rose Garden, Still to File’. “There’s another memory I could have quite happily lost right there! Is this the only copy?” 

Josh said that it was, apart from the negatives and the copies emailed to CJ. He paused and then added, “Oh, and the copies at the print shop waiting to be made into T-shirts.”

Sam gave Josh a look of contempt and turned back to the book. Eventually he reached the final entry; a black and white photo of him in the Oval office. The President was leaning back in his chair listening intently to Sam who was gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “That’s a keeper!” Sam said proudly. “It’s like something out of a Cecil Stoughton album!” he stared at the picture for a little while longer. “Of course, we were probably discussing national parks.”

“Probably,” Josh agreed. He watched as Sam closed the book but didn’t put it down. He wrapped an arm around it and held it to his chest. They sat in silence as they finished their beers until Josh could take it no longer. “So, what do you think?”

Sam didn’t look at him. “It was thoughtful of you. A lot of thought went into it. I’m saying, it means a lot to me.”

Josh told him it was no problem. He was glad to do it. Secretly he was disappointed though. He had hoped the collection of memories would have stirred something in Sam, a discussion about work, a desire to return there or even a realisation that he knew he would be the man he had been again. Instead Sam thanked him, switched on the TV and changed the subject to the ball game.

Josh stayed that night. He had drunk too much to drive and it made more sense to sleep at Sam’s and get a cab to his in the morning. He didn’t sleep well. Looking through the album had stirred up his own memories and he found that when he tried to sleep an image from it would jump into his mind and set about reliving itself until Josh could take it no longer. He pulled back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. He was thirsty and on realising he was now hungry as well he made his way to the kitchen to see what he could find. 

He was as quiet as he could be in the semi-darkness. Nickleby looked up briefly but soon returned to a curled-up ball of fur after giving Josh a by now customary disdainful look. Josh decided on cereal. He dumped the bowl and glass in the sink and crept back to his room. He stopped at the door to Sam’s. He couldn’t remember seeing the light on his way past but it was on now. He stood for a moment at the door, pushing it slightly more open with his toe. Sam was sitting on the floor at the end of his bed looking at the book, laughing at a picture or one of Josh’s comments. Josh was about to interrupt, grateful to have something to do apart from trying to get to sleep. He lifted his hand but stopped in mid-air. Sam wasn’t laughing, he was crying. He closed the book and wrapped an arm around it like he had earlier then sat, one hand holding the book, the other covering his eyes. Normally Josh wouldn’t hesitate to comfort his friend but he had a feeling that right now, comfort wasn’t what Sam needed. The book had worked. Josh was never really certain what his true aim had been when he started to make it. He hoped it would trigger memories, convince Sam that he knew who he was or act as a catalyst which would allow Sam to move forwards. He had hoped Sam would have an emotional response to his words and the images. He had feared it might be the one he was watching now. But still he didn’t go to him. He didn’t understand why but he knew for certain that whatever Sam was going through he needed to go through it alone. He tiptoed away from the door, returned to his room and pulled the pillow over his head. It was hard to let Sam deal with this but listening to him do it was harder still.


	20. Chapter 20

When Josh went to the kitchen the following morning, he found Sam already up, sitting at the table with his hands around a cup of coffee. Josh walked over to the fridge and poured a glass of orange before joining him. 

“I was thinking it might be time for me to go back to work. Just a few hours a day. A couple of days a week. What do you think?”

“I think it’s totally up to you, Sam.” Josh avoided the urge to run around the kitchen loudly declaring the success of his book. “Do you think you’re ready to go back?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been sitting here since four a.m. trying to decide. I’ll have to speak to Dr Graham I suppose, see what he thinks. It might be good for me to be there. It might jog a few memories or something. I mean, I don’t have to jump straight in, I could just visit to start with.”

Josh agreed that a visit was no big deal and left it to Sam to tell him when it would suit him. He finished his juice and helped himself to the coffee. “Donna, said you were thinking about getting a car.”

“I was thinking about it. Now I’m not thinking about it. Now I’m thinking about going back to work.”

“Well whatever you choose to do, I’m your man. I’m your back to work man and I’m your new car man.”

“Noted,” Sam replied as he reached for the newspaper. Josh made a round of toast and placed it on the table. Sam looked up to see Josh about to place a knife with butter on it in the jam. “Use a plane!” Sam declared.

Josh frowned and then laughed. “Use a what?”

“A spoon for the jam!”

“Okay but you realise you just told me to use a plane.”

Sam shook his head.

“Sam, swear to God, you said plane.”

Sam frowned and stared at the spoon. “Yeah, I’m so ready to go back to work.” He stood and put his plate in the sink before heading to the living room.

Josh hurriedly picked up his plate and followed him. “Hey, I know what this is. It’s nothing to worry about is what is it.”

Sam switched on the TV and turned up the volume.

“No, listen, Sam. This isn’t a problem.” He waited for Sam to look at him. “Do you want to take advantage of my medical research skills or not?”

Eventually Sam sighed, muted the TV and turned to him.

“It’s just another type of anomia, that thing you have were you can’t find the word you want except just then, you said the wrong word.”

“Fascinating.”

Josh replied that it was fascinating. “Sometimes people use a similar sounding word so you could have said, use a moon for the jam. Other times people use entirely the wrong word like you just did. The thing about it is that-”

“Okay, Josh! I’ve got it, anomia, got it. Of course the chances that I’ll remember what I’ve got are slim though.”

“You want me to write it down?”

“No, I don’t want you to write it down! I want you to go to work!”

“Oh. Okay.” Josh gathered his coat and bag and walked towards the door. Just as he was about to leave, Sam called to him.

“Thanks for the book. It was…” Sam didn’t finish his sentence but this time it wasn’t anomia, he just simply didn’t have the words to express what the gift had meant to him.

Josh didn’t need the words; Sam too had a pretty bad poker face.

“You think he’s ready?” Leo sat back in his chair and studied Josh.

“I don’t know. It’s not my call anyway. Sam says he is.”

“But he doesn’t really know does he.”

“Not really, no.”

“Have you told Toby?”

Josh blew out a deep sigh. “No. I was going to wait until I knew for sure.”

“Okay, well keep me in the loop and let me know what needs doing to make the whatever we’re calling it, go as smoothly as it can.” Leo nodded at Josh’s thanks and looked back to the document he had been reading.

“A miracle.”

“What’s that?” Leo looked up from the sheets of paper.

“The whatever we’re calling it, I call it a miracle.”

This time Leo put the papers down on his desk and stood. “Come and sit over here will ya, son.”

Josh followed him to the sofa and listened as Leo explained that he shouldn’t expect too much, that visiting work wasn’t the same as a full return and that Sam might not even be ready to visit. He already knew all of this but appreciated Leo taking the time to talk to him and thanked him for it. 

A few days later, the ‘whatever we’re calling it’ had a name; an acclimatisation visit. Josh was very proud of the term that he had stolen from Dr Graham. Claire couldn’t care less what it was called, she was sure it would be a disaster. After failing to persuade Sam to wait a while, she urged Leo to ask Josh to try to persuade Sam but Leo wasn’t inclined to get involved. It was the cause of their first real argument and both were surprised at the stubbornness of the other. In the end, Claire reluctantly accepted Leo’s view that as Sam’s boss, so long as the medical advice was sound, he couldn’t get involved on a personal level and especially not when he was emotionally involved in the situation. 

And so, one week after Josh had given Sam the book that he was convinced had prompted his return to work, he found himself sitting on Sam’s bed watching as his friend emptied his wardrobe. For some reason, Sam had become fixated on what to wear. He refused to discuss the schedule for the visit until he had decided upon a suit. Josh had put this down to another aspect of the brain’s recovery. It was CJ who had worked out what was really going on. 

“When was the last time Sam wore a suit?” 

Josh looked up from the sandwich filling he was trying to keep between the bread. They had snuck out for lunch after CJ had decided Josh was obsessing about Sam’s return to work. “I don’t know when he last- what sort of question is that to ask …oh,” CJ nodded, “I do know,” she nodded again. “The last time Sam wore a suit was the night of the crash.”

“So, if you think about it, which you obviously haven’t, this isn’t so much about Sam deciding what to wear as-”

“As Sam deciding who he is! Man I’m good at this.”

CJ frowned at his theft of her analysis and poked her fork into his sandwich causing the chicken he had been trying so hard to rescue to fall onto his plate. 

Josh smiled at the memory and then returned his attention to Sam who was standing in front of him holding a suit. “I could wear this one but then it isn’t that comfortable, it looks good, it wears well, I like the colour, but it’s a bit tight on the shoulders and then there’s the tie.”

Josh had had a number of conversations that started like this and he knew where it was heading. He didn’t think he could take another journey through Sam’s suit deliberations, so he tried a different approach. He walked over to the wardrobe. “Okay, this is called total suit recall. I’ll pick a suit; you tell me everything about it.” He rummaged inside and pulled out Sam’s tuxedo. “Your tux, you’ve got ten seconds, give me everything you’ve got.”

“What the hell?”

“No, we’re doing this. Ten seconds, everything this tux reminds you of.” 

Sam folded his arms and looked deep in thought. “We look good in tuxes.”

“We do,” Josh agreed. “And the last time you wore yours was…”

Sam frowned and cocked his head to one side. He struggled for a moment and then his face lit up as he told Josh he last wore it at the Governors’ Ball. 

“Yes!” Josh stuffed the tux back, caught Sam’s admonishing expression and placed it more neatly on the rail before pulling out another item. “Now this, my friend, is what we commonly refer to as your Da Man suit. We call it this because…”

Sam stood and walked over to the suit. He studied it for a while and then reached into the pocket and pulled out a paperclip, a rubber band and a key. “Did I devise an escape plan using only these three objects the last time I wore it?”

Josh shook his head, pulled the suit away from Sam and told him to concentrate.

“Did I lock someone in somewhere?”

“No! Forget the key, the key’s not important!”

“I can’t! Someone might be in a cupboard or something waiting for me to come and release them. And I have to tell you that’s going to cause some problems because not only can I not remember who it might have-”

“Will you forget the frigging key and think about the suit!”

“Oh. Well, this is the suit I wore when I…” Sam stepped back and folded his arms. “Okay, this is the suit I wore when I told Senator Huff to take a hike.”

“The alliteration was beautiful, Hey, Huff, take a hike.” Josh shook his head, smiling at the memory. “Good, okay,” he flicked through the clothes, “this one!”

Sam sat on the bed and studied the grey suit. “There’s something about the material it’s…” his forehead creased in concentration. “Got it, it’s my all-nighter suit!” 

“Yes, so called because of its wrinkle-free qualities. I’ve got one too although I never seem to be wearing it when I’m pulling an all-nighter.”

“Well, yes, all-nighters by their very nature being hard to predict.” Sam gestured at the suit as if greeting an old friend. “It’s the unique mix of linen and wool that makes it almost wrinkle-free. Heavy wools aren’t as good as you’d think at-”

“Okay, total suit recall is done. Are you ready to look at the schedule now?”

“Yes, strangely enough, I am.”

Josh led the way to the living room. He pulled a file from his backpack and sat down. Sam was sitting opposite, perched on the edge of a chair, hands clasped, resting between his knees. It was a pose so evocative of Sam in the Oval Office that for a moment, Josh just stared at him before returning to the file opening it to the page he needed. 

“Okay, you’re going to be picked up at 9am by two secret service agents.” Josh raised his hand to stop Sam’s objection, “I know, I know, but the President insists. Apparently the chance of you being taken hostage on your way to work is not to be taken lightly.” Josh shook his head at the bizarre conversation that had taken place with the President and Ron. “At 9.30 you’ll meet with Leo. 10.30 you’re having coffee with the communications team. 11.00, you’ll be meeting with CJ. 12.00 is lunch with me, Toby and CJ and 1.00 is free time for you to work with Toby or wander around or whatever.”

Sam nodded slowly and leant back in the chair. He then shook his head and stood. “I can’t do it.”

Josh stood too, the file falling from his lap. “What do you mean you can’t do it? Of course you can! It’s nothing, it’s just seeing your friends and colleagues and we can change that if you want. We don’t have to do the coffee thing, you and me could just have lunch, we could-” Josh nearly turned around he could hear Leo’s words of warning so clearly. “Okay, fine, if you don’t want to then fine. Whatever you want, Sam.”

“I could stay until lunch and then go,” Sam suggested. “I could have lunch with you and CJ that’s no big deal and then go after that.”

Josh realised that Sam had effectively dropped Toby from the day’s schedule. He wasn’t sure if Sam had done it on purpose or not. The fact that Sam seemed happy to visit on those terms stopped Josh from asking him. 

The sound of the ball bouncing against the wall in Toby’s office was driving Ginger to distraction. She had handed out the revised schedules for Sam’s visit an hour ago and judging by the force with which the ball had been thrown for the past ten minutes, staying away was a very good plan. Josh had devised a similar plan although his involved not being in the building at all. He had managed to make a few calls and reschedule most of his meetings for the afternoon allowing him to spend the morning on the Hill.

The morning of Sam’s visit, CJ was preparing for a briefing, Josh was going over an agenda for a meeting later that day and Toby was writing the first draft of some remarks for a speech the following week. Donna took the call and with great relief went to tell Josh that Sam was waiting in the lobby. Josh jumped up as if it was his birthday and he’d just been told he could open his presents. “Sam brings out a really sweet side to you,” Donna observed as she picked up the papers that had fallen to the floor with his flurry of movement.

“It’s not sweet,” Josh objected. “It’s more like a Butch and Sundance thing!”

Donna fussed with his tie and then stood back, admiring her work. “Butch and Sundance were sweet.”

“They were many things, sweet wasn’t one of them. They were partners, riding into the unknown, each had the other’s back. Their partnership was built on trust, loyalty and years of friendship.” Josh nodded at his own wise words and then realised Donna had already left the room. He pulled at his tie to annoy her as he hurried past her and down to the lobby.

Sam looked overwhelmed by the large hall, caught in the middle of the traffic of people scurrying past. He turned on hearing Josh’s voice but waited for Josh to come to him as if only he could lead them through the crowd. He was wearing his Da Man suit. They walked slowly up the stairs, Sam’s pace slowing even more as they neared the communications bullpen. Ginger saw them first and came over to greet Sam. All the staff had been spoken to about how Sam may appear uncomfortable or nervous. They had been advised not to make a big show of seeing him, not to crowd him and to keep gatherings to a minimum of ten people. Ginger checked herself and remembered this in time. Her initial response had been to rush at Sam like he was the last bagel in the Mess and squeeze him in a tight hug. Instead she walked over to him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered a heartfelt, ‘welcome back’. 

Sam could already feel his eyes stinging and he cursed his emotions and his inability to control them. He needn’t have worried; the staff had been warned about that too. He turned towards his office and walked to the door. “Isn’t Jack, no, wait, James, isn’t James working today?” he asked of the empty office and clear desk.

Josh said he wasn’t and told Sam to go on in pointing out that it was still his office. He watched as Sam walked over to his desk, picked up a few items and then walked to the window. He glanced briefly at the window to Toby’s office before turning to Josh. He looked at his watch. “9.30, time to go meet Leo. And I swear to God, if he has a photo of my mom on his desk, I’m taking Mallory to some excruciating opera and I’m not even going to tell him.”

“Atta boy,” Josh replied and led the way to their meeting, unaware that the possibility of a photo on a desk would be the least of his problems that morning.


	21. Chapter 21

Leo was taking a call when Sam and Josh arrived but he gestured to them to come in. Josh went over to the sofa but Sam lingered by the door until Leo gestured again this time indicating he should take a seat. He ended the call and walked over to sit with Sam. Josh loitered, unwilling to leave. “I’ll swing by to take you to the coffee thing,” he told Sam, as anxious as a parent leaving a child for the first day at school.

When he had gone, Leo relaxed back in his seat, hoping Sam would do the same. “Josh can be one hell of a hoverer,” he said of his Deputy. Sam smiled and nodded. Leo chatted about everyday things for a little while until he was sure Sam was as relaxed as he was going to get. He then steered the conversation towards work. He danced tentatively around the subject of Sam’s return and what form it would take in a manner that was alien to his usual direct approach to conversation. By the end of the hour, Leo know that Sam wanted to return to work, he also knew a full return to anything like his old position would be out of the question. He looked at his watch and realised he had a few minutes before Josh arrived. Someone has to ask the question, he thought, and even better if he asked it now, Josh could deal with the fallout. 

“I hear Josh changed the schedule for you today.”

Sam’s head shot up and he stared at his boss, frowning. He wasn’t sure where Leo was heading but he was sure he didn’t want to join him. “It was a long day. Josh had planned a long day. I just thought, better keep it to the morning then next time, you know, maybe a day.” 

Leo nodded in a slow rhythm, you’re lying, you’re lying, you’re lying. 

“Also, I know Toby’s busy with the State of the Union and probably doesn’t really have the time and he’s got the communication team having coffee with me so that’s more time wasted.” In an attempt to downplay the reasons for the change in schedule Sam realised he had unwittingly revealed them.

Leo stopped nodding and started playing dumb. “So your meeting with Toby’s off the schedule?”

“Yeah, it was taken off. It was a long day.”

“Are you catching up with him at the coffee thing?”

Sam shrugged. He honestly didn’t know if Toby would be there or not. He hoped he wouldn’t. 

Leo heard Josh’s knock on the door the same time he noticed Sam’s leg jumping up and down and his hand worrying at his tie. He remembered his advice to Josh about not pushing Sam but consoled himself with the thought that he had meant pushing him about returning to work, not about his relationship with his Toby. He called for Josh to come in and did his best to hurry the two men out before Josh could ask him why Sam looked worse now than he had in the foyer earlier.

They walked to the next scheduled meeting in silence. Sam becoming more nervous the closer they got. Some of the communications team were waiting for him. Coffee cups were laid out on a table next to a tray of cakes. His colleagues were restrained in their greetings, not sure what might happen if they were too noisy or boisterous and keen not to find out. Sam shook hands and accepted gentle pats on the back. He was handed a coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. Josh watched as Sam helplessly looked for a surface to place one or the other and rescued him by taking the plate, leading him to a chair a little way from the group of people and then placing it precariously on the arm of the chair. “You don’t have to stay long,” he reassured Sam who he thought was looking more anxious by the moment. “I’ll swing by-”

“And get me at eleven. I know the drill.” 

After Josh had left, people came over to chat to him. They came alone and only stayed a few moments. Long enough to ask how he was, moan about Toby and tell him how much he was missed. Sam nodded politely, shook a hand when it was offered and laughed when it was clear he was meant to. He tried taking a bite of cake but it turned to cardboard in his mouth and he had to have several swigs of coffee to get it down. He realised he was tapping his foot and stopped the movement but when his leg wouldn’t stop shaking he stood up and walked around. Sam was desperate to get out of the room. He was meant to be meeting Josh so he said a few goodbyes and hurried away up the stairs back to his office. 

Once there, he heard a voice. He recognised it. He recognised its volume and acerbic tone. 

“What is the point of having assistants if, when I need some assistance, they’re unable to assist?” Toby had planned to stay out of Sam’s way but he’d forgotten a file he needed and Ginger couldn’t find it so he had returned to his office. His frustration was clear as he and Ginger ransacked his desk and filing cabinet. He glanced at the clock and knew time was running out. He pulled open a drawer for a second time and slammed it closed on not seeing the file magically appear. “How am I supposed to do my job when files don’t stay put!” Another drawer was slammed shut.

Bonnie looked up from her desk. She’d had the good sense to duck under it on seeing Toby arrive. She looked furtively around her computer screen and was surprised to see Sam standing by the door to his office. 

The Bullpen bustled with life around him as he stood in the middle of it desperately trying to see someone or something he recognised. He knew he was meant to be meeting Josh but now he had a nagging feeling that he should be in court. He couldn’t understand why Shelly wasn’t around. It wasn’t like her to just disappear. Sam jumped as a hand was placed on his arm.

“Hey, Sam. I thought you were having coffee?” Bonnie said.

“Have you seen Shelly?” Sam asked.

“Shelly? You’re meant to be meeting with CJ next. Josh was meant to come get you. Didn’t he turn up?”

Sam relaxed slightly as he realised Josh must have arranged to meet him and forgotten the time. He asked Bonnie what the time was and when she told him it was ten to eleven he relaxed a little more. “I’m meeting Josh but I think I’m early.”

He walked away from her and towards what he thought was the way out. He would give Josh a few more minutes then leave. He was sure he was due in court and he had to find Shelly. He hurried out of the Bullpen and down the corridor until he came to a reception area. He walked towards the man at the desk. “Excuse me, could you please tell me how to get out of here?”

Charlie sighed. “Now Sam, we agreed we wouldn’t discuss our secret escape plan in public.” 

Sam placed his hands on the desk and took a few deep breaths, his anxiety mounting. Everything’s alright, he told himself. You just need to get outside then you’ll know where you are. The man behind the desk was frowning at him. Sam tried again. “At the risk of appearing incredibly obtuse, I was just wondering if you have such a thing as an exit?”

“Sam, are you feeling okay? Do you need me to get someone?”

In reply, Sam simply stared at him, a look of anxious confusion on his face. His hands were now clenching the edge of the desk and he was pale and shaking.

Charlie was saved from saying or doing anything else as the President appeared from his office. He took one look at the scene and a second look at Charlie’s concerned expression before taking action.

“Hey, Sam, come and sit in my office for a while will you.” When his words prompted no response he walked around the desk and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam batted it away and was immediately surrounded by three men in suits, two of them standing between him and Bartlet. These men didn’t say ‘hey Sam’ in fact, they didn’t seem friendly at all. 

Bartlet waved them away and they reluctantly stood aside. “Sam, are you ill? Do you want me to get a doctor?” 

Sam shook his head. “I just need to get out of here. I’m meant to be in court and then I’m meeting Josh.”

The President turned around. “Go get him.” But Charlie had already pre-empted the request. “Sam, I think you need to sit down, just for a while, and then you can go to court when you feel better.”

Sam suddenly felt threatened. Why would no one let him leave? The men in the grey suits were still staring at him, watching his every move with a concentration that unnerved him. He made towards the door but found his way blocked by CJ. He frantically scanned the people surrounding him. The woman looked friendly enough. He decided to approach her. “Please, just show me the way out. I’m meant to be in court and I really don’t think these-” Sam stopped talking at the sound of Josh’s voice. He peered past her to see him hurrying towards him.

“Thank God! I think I’m early. I couldn’t find Shelly and now I’m too late to meet you because I’m due in court, only I can’t get out, they won’t let me out.” Sam gestured vaguely towards the agents.

In a steady tone that belied his true feelings Josh asked. “Where do you work, Sam?” 

“Josh?” Sam shook his head, unable to work out why Josh would ask him what he already knew.

“Where are we now?” Josh interrupted.

“What?” Sam let a small nervous laugh escape.

“What city, Sam, what city are we in?”

Sam didn’t know why Josh was asking these questions but he knew that he wasn’t fooling around. He was about to answer he was in New York when he realised that he couldn’t be. Josh didn’t work in New York, he worked in the White House now, they both did. “DC?” 

Josh just smiled and nodded at Sam, took him by the arm and led him into Leo’s office.

Leo was sitting at his desk looking down at his work. “Sam, this is Leo. Leo, Sam’s going to sit here for a while, okay?”

Leo didn’t respond. This was the sort of nonsense he was used to hearing when Josh and Sam arrived in the room together. It was the tone of Sam’s voice rather than the words that forced Leo’s head up sharply.

“I don’t need to sit down. I just need to get out of here,” he insisted.

Leo rose quickly and walked over to Josh. “What the hell happened?”

“I have no idea.” He led Leo away from the sofa. “He thought he was back at Gage. We should get a doctor. There’s a doctor on call isn’t there?” Josh’s question was answered by the appearance of a smartly dressed man entering the room. He ignored the occupants and made his way straight to Sam.

“This is Doctor Meadows,” Charlie explained as he followed behind.

“Hello, Sam, I hear you’re having a bit of a bad day.” The doctor’s tone was casual but his actions were brisk and business-like as he began to check Sam’s pulse.

Sam looked at Josh who was deep in conversation with Leo. He heard a shout from the room next door. “For God’s sake, he can’t remember where he is, he hasn’t suddenly remembered that he’s an assassin!” Bartlet burst into Leo’s office leaving his bewildered agents staring at the closed door wondering which part of their training had dealt with senior staffers who appear to go insane. Bartlet moved over to the couch and sat next to Sam. “How you doing, Sam? I called the doctor because you seemed a little confused back there.” 

“It’s okay,” Sam told him as if he was the one who needed reassuring. 

“Sam, can you tell me where you live?” the doctor asked.

“DC.” Sam was certain of this at least.

“What day is it Sam?”

“Tuesday.” 

Leo grimaced. “It was Friday.”

Dr Meadows was well aware of Sam’s medical situation and wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the President standing over him anxiously awaiting his verdict. “Sam, I’d like you to go to the hospital.”

His head was beginning to ache, so maybe the doctor was right, maybe he did need to go to hospital. Josh walked towards him and crouched down. “Come on, Sam, I’ll go with you.” He nodded and followed Josh to the door. 

Once inside the ER he was led to an exam room and lay down. Josh stayed in the room nearby but out of the way. The doctor shone a torch into Sam’s eyes and felt his head. She turned to Josh who filled her in on Sam’s medical history then returned her attention to Sam.

“You’re in a hospital. It’s okay. How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“How else do you feel?” 

Sam’s eyes closed as he answered. “Just tired.”

“I’ll let you sleep in a minute, Sam, but you need to open your eyes for me.” She gently shook Sam and repeated his name until he opened his eyes and turned towards her.

“What’s your last name?” 

“Seaborn.”

Josh let out the breath he had been holding and walked closer to the bed.

“What day is this, Sam?” The doctor leaned nearer to him and spoke clearly. He wished she would go away and let him sleep.

“I will go away in a minute, Sam but I need you to tell me what day it is first.”

“Friday.”

“Good, now we’re going to run a few tests and then I’ll be back to talk with you, I’ll also page the doctor who’s been seeing you, ok?” Sam nodded and looked over at Josh who smiled encouragingly before catching the doctor’s eye and following her out of the room.

“It’s a little too early to say but I think Sam’s experienced decompensation.” She took in Josh’s baffled expression. “Think of it as a temporary relapse. They’re quite common although Sam seems to have had quite the experience with his. Dr Graham will tell you more but it might help if you try to think about any triggers that might have caused this, where Sam was, what he was doing.” She made her apologies and left Josh to wait for Sam’s doctor, adding that he should let Sam sleep.

He sat down heavily in a chair that creaked in protest and then realised what he should be doing. “Excuse me,” he asked a passing nurse who didn’t stop, “Can I use-” he tried again with a doctor. Getting increasingly frustrated he stepped into the path of an oncoming nurse. “Can I use this in here?” She pointed wordlessly to a sign directly opposite that read, ‘Cell Phones may not be used in this area’. 

“Ah, okay, big sign, didn’t see it. You need fluorescent letters or something,” Josh mumbled as he walked quickly towards the exit.

He had phoned Leo, Sam’s mother and Toby before returning to the room juggling a cup of coffee and a copy of the Post. As soon as he had sat down Dr Graham walked into the room and held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Josh. Not so sure I’m as happy to see Sam here though!”

He didn’t wake Sam but asked Josh what he knew. He explained about decompensations and also applauded Sam’s ability to top the scale with his first experience of one. He looked disappointed when he realised it had happened at the White House and shook his head.

“What? There’s something else?”

“No, no, I just…it seems like you had the day pretty well organised. No crowds, not too much noise, just as we discussed.”

“So the frown and head shaking means...?”

“Did anyone see what actually happened? Was there some kind of trigger? I don’t know, a noise, smell, something that could have brought some memories back?”

“You can’t hear any traffic or anything like that in the White House. He was near his office all he would have heard were printers, phones and talking.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let him sleep then check in on him. I would think he can go home today. I’d like to speak to him though. Have a think, Josh, ask around. There must have been something.”

Josh was left standing by the bed. He pulled up a chair and leant forward, his elbows on his knees, head in hands. “When you wake up we’ve got some serious talking to do,” he said to his sleeping friend.


	22. Chapter 22

It took Josh a while to recognise the incessant buzzing noise as his telephone and a while longer to remember where it was. He snaked a hand from beneath the covers and grabbed for it. He’d had very little sleep. After taking Sam home at 2am, he’d stayed the night until Claire had arrived and now he was using his Saturday morning to catch up on some sleep. Claire’s voice on the line soon woke him. He listened until he was alert enough to understand what she was saying.

“What do you mean he’s going away? Away where? For how long?”

Claire patiently told him to calm down and then told him that Sam was going back to California with her for a couple of weeks. She explained he was going to have some time resting and maybe go sailing.

“Sailing! He can’t go sailing. What if he’s forgotten how to sail!”

She ignored his protests that he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Sam about what had happened. “He doesn’t need to talk, Josh. He needs quiet. Peace, quiet and the sun and the waves.”

“He needs to tell me what happened, that’s what he needs!” and then in a quieter voice, “that’s what I need.”

“Yes, it is,” Claire replied and it wasn’t clear to Josh if she was agreeing with what he had said or admonishing him for saying it. 

“Jicama with Oranges, Grapefruit, and Pineapple.”

“CJ! Has Sam Seaborn resigned from the White House?”

“Citrus Vinaigrette, Ulises Valdez Chardonnay 2007 “Russian River”   
and Herb Green Ceviche of Hawaiian Opah.”

“Did Sam tell the President he was leaving DC?”

“Sesame-Cilantro Cracker, Oregon Wagyu Beef in Oaxacan Black Mole   
Black Bean Tamalon and Grilled Green Beans.”

“Do you know how long he plans to stay in California?”

“Cabernet Sauvignon 2006 “Selección Rebecca”, Chocolate-Cajeta Tart.”

“Has Sam resigned on medical grounds?”

“Toasted Homemade Marshmallows, Graham Cracker Crumble and Goat Cheese Ice Cream and Carlos Santana Brut.” CJ stubbornly continued to read from the menu for the upcoming state dinner, ignoring any questions about Sam and cursing whoever it was who had leaked his trip to California. 

“CJ, did Toby Ziegler have anything to do with Sam leaving?”

In his office Toby dropped his pen and stared at the monitor. CJ looked down at the podium for a few seconds then back up at the press. “I’m going to have to get back to you with more information; the Cabernet Sauvignon may be ’98, not 2006.” With that she quickly left the briefing room and headed straight to her office.

She waited until later that evening to talk to Toby. She knew he wouldn’t be in any hurry to speak to her. She spent most of the day finding out what was known about Sam’s trip, which turned out to be very little fact and a lot of speculation. She found Toby staring at an empty legal pad. She knocked softly on the door and entered. “I thought I was doing good there, with the menu tactic.”

“Yeah.”

“They were keeping the questions coming while I was bombarding them with words like jicama.” 

“Yeah.”

CJ walked over to the sofa and sat down. “So?”

Toby finally moved and sat back in his chair. “What?”

“Did Toby Ziegler have anything to do with Sam leaving?”

For a brief moment Toby looked as if he was about to explode at CJ. Part of her wished he would, anything was better than his refusal to talk. He walked over to the window and she watched as he took a few deep breaths and finally turned to her. “Not knowingly. It’s possible I might have.” He took another breath but this time it wasn’t to calm him, it was a sigh. He joined CJ on the sofa. “That day when he visited, the adjustment visit or whatever the hell Josh called it, I made sure I was nowhere near him.” He bent over and placed his elbows on his knees, his hands held tightly together. “I came up here though, I needed something and I thought Sam would still be doing that coffee thing. I couldn’t find this damn file and I was a little, you know. So, I was ranting about missing things and assistants that don’t assist and I probably shouted, a little bit, because of the missing file thing.” He stood again and walked to his desk, randomly straightening objects on it. “Anyway, the thing is, Sam was there, he was standing in the bullpen. I saw him, I knew he was confused or whatever. He looked confused but he looked, it wasn’t just confusion, he looked…scared.”

“Why didn’t you go out to him?”

“I don’t know. I should have. I could have got Josh or you. I just watched him wander off. I was glad that he had.” 

“Josh is running around like Columbo trying to figure out what the trigger was and you’ve known all along.”

Toby turned to face her and nodded. She patted the seat beside her and he returned to the sofa. “I don’t know what it means though. Does he remember what happened the night of the crash? Has he always remembered? He’s certainly not comfortable around me.” CJ started to speak but he cut her off. “You don’t need to point out that people not being comfortable around me isn’t that unusual! I should have told Josh. I don’t know why I didn’t. In fact, I don’t know why I’m doing and thinking a lot of the things I am right now.” He stood quickly and walked over to the filing cabinet. He pulled out two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. “I’ll tell Josh tomorrow. Tonight, we drink.”

“Okay, and while we drink, maybe you can tell me exactly what the hell jicama is.”

Toby nodded as he unscrewed the lid. “As it happens, Claudia-Jean, I can.”

The sun was beaming down causing golden ripples of light to dance across the ocean. Sam looked out at the horizon, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the smells and sounds that he knew and loved so well. He jumped onto the boat and started to make some checks. It had been a long time since he’d taken her out and he knew his dad didn’t get to sail as often as he liked to. Both men busied themselves checking rigging, radio frequencies, stowing away water lines and checking the engine and bilges. 

Phillip glanced anxiously at his son when he thought he wasn’t looking. Claire had told him about Sam’s disastrous return to work and although he wasn’t worried about Sam handling the boat, he was worried he might end up trying to handle the boat and Sam. After a few more furtive glances though he realised there was nothing to worry about. There was an air of tranquility around Sam that he hadn’t sensed for a long time. He also hadn’t seen his son so focused on a task. It was clear from his relaxed and confident manner that he remembered every inch of the boat.

They weren’t even out of the harbour when Phillip began to sing Spanish Ladies. Sam groaned and shook his head.

“Y'all know me. Know how I earn a livin'. I'll catch this bird for you, but it ain't gonna be easy. Bad fish. This shark, swallow you whole. Little shakin', little tenderizin', an' down you go.”

“Okay, Dad, heard it before. About fifty times.”

“I value my neck a lot more than three thousand bucks, chief. I'll find him for three, but I'll catch him, and kill him, for ten.”

“Dad!”

“I don't want no volunteers, I don't want no mates, there's just too many captains on this island. $10,000 for me by myself. For that you get the head, the tail, the whole damn thing.”

Sam had his back to his dad as he told him that impersonating Quint every time he went sailing with him was old the second time he did it, which was twenty years ago. Phillip ignored him and told him to throw him a bottle of beer. He was going to tell him that Sam complaining about it was just as old but they both knew the script and stuck to it as usual. Phillip sat back and took a long swig of beer. Sam looked good, he had already started to get more colour to his complexion and Claire said his appetite was improving. He looked more than good, he looked in control. Phillip wished he could keep his son out here where he looked like the Sam he knew before the accident. He knew though that Sam’s visit would soon be over and he would have to return to Washington and to rebuilding his life. Phillip promised himself he would be there this time and do whatever he could to help his son and ex-wife. He took another swig of beer, put his feet up on the grab rail and started on another verse of Spanish Ladies.

It was unusually quiet in Leo’s office. Toby, CJ and Josh were sitting down having been called to a meeting, the agenda of which was unknown to them. Leo was signing some documents, Margaret stood by his desk. He signed the last one with a flourish and handed the pile to her. “Where’s the President?”

“You mean right now?”

“Yes, I mean right now!”

“Oh, he’s in the residence having a late breakfast with the First Lady.”

“Good. Make sure we’re not disturbed, will ya?” Margaret nodded, took the papers from Leo and closed the door firmly behind her. 

“Does Donna do that when you ask her something?”

“Do what?”

Leo shook his head, “Never mind.” He walked from behind his desk and sat in a chair near his staff. “Okay, we have something of a situation here.”

Josh glanced at CJ who shrugged.

“You’re giving me shrugs? Josh is skulking about trying to solve some mystery known only to him, Toby’s just skulking and CJ’s trying to field questions about why Sam has been forced to move to California because of his boss!”

“Wow, you’re informed,” Josh muttered slightly in awe.

“You bet your ass I am.”

CJ shuffled forwards in her seat. “Okay, well I think Toby can help Josh out with the mystery.” Leo watched Josh’s face as Toby began to tell him about what he suspected was his part in the debacle that was Sam’s visit to work. Even though he was expecting it, it still made him jump when Josh flew out of his seat.

“Well, that’s just great, Toby! I’m talking to Sam’s doctors, to Claire, even to Tom who served the coffee at the communications thing and you’re thinking you’d tell me this now!” He stormed away and then flung back around, one hand on his hip the other rubbing furiously at his head. “You don’t get it do you, this isn’t about you and your inability to deal with this, it’s about Sam and his recovery and making sure we’re doing everything we can to help him. You’ve managed to undo everything. I spent hours getting Sam ready to come back to us, hours and hours of talking and listening and reassuring. You know what he needed the most reassurance about; seeing you. He never said it but every time he backed off it was because of you and his mixed up memories of you shouting at him because he knows, even if he doesn’t remember, he knows it all comes down to you and the mocking, deriding, odious fucking way you got him so worked up he couldn’t get away from you fast enough and we all know how that scene played out!”

CJ used to have a teacher who told the children to be quiet enough to hear a pin drop. She used to wait and then drop the pin onto the wooden floor. CJ hadn’t thought of her for years but she thought of her now, almost expected her to be standing in front of her waiting with a pin between her fingers. She wouldn’t have dropped it though. The room was certainly quiet but the sound of Josh’s breathing meant her standard of silence hadn’t been reached.

As well as breathing hard, Josh was bright red. He had almost turned as red as Toby had white. Leo was trying to work out how a meeting that was meant to focus on issues and strategies had turned into a group therapy session that Stanley would have been proud of. “Sit down, Josh,” Leo ordered. 

At first Josh ignored him but then he looked at Leo’s expression and reluctantly returned to his seat. “I thought we could talk a few things through this morning, maybe come up with a plan or two. Boy was I wrong about that. It’s Friday and for once it’s a pretty light one so, you all get finished by four and you get the hell out of here and sort this mess out. Go down to the basement, go to a bar, I couldn’t care less but get it sorted. It’s bad enough having to deal with what’s happened to Sam without you all being at loggerheads.” He stood and returned to his desk. No one else moved. “I’m not fooling around here, get this sorted. You’re supposed to be his friends for Christ’s sake!”

As soon as the door closed behind them, the door to the Oval office opened. “I was going to come in and offer my advice but I thought you had it all pretty much under control.” Bartlet put his hands in his pockets and walked over to Leo. “Especially when Josh was shouting, that bit sounded particularly under control.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“Well only at the quiet bits, I didn’t really need to eavesdrop for the shouting.”

Leo shook his head and sighed deeply. “I thought a bit of air-clearing would help.”

Bartlet smiled at his friend. “I don’t think Toby would agree with that right now.” He walked closer to the desk. “He’ll come back to us, Leo. Whether his friends are acting like lunatics or not, he’ll come back. He’s still got work to do here.” 

Leo smiled at Bartlet and nodded slowly, grateful for his friend’s words of encouragement and almost believing them.

“Now, I seem to remember you said something about bunking off early today. I’m assuming that includes me. I have a light afternoon.”

“You’re phoning the French President and meeting with business leaders to discuss the economy, I don’t think we can call that a light afternoon.”

“I could cancel.”

“I think you’re confusing ‘light’ with ‘two matters of pressing importance’.”

“Again?”

“Yes, sir.”

Charlie put some papers on the President’s desk and then walked over and shut the adjoining door to Leo’s office, pleased to hear the more usual banter emanating from it than the anger he had heard earlier.


	23. Chapter 23

In the end they decided on a bar, it was less formal that staying at the White House and, as Josh pointed out, if they didn’t work things out they could just get drunk instead.

CJ ordered three orange juices and told them they could drink again when she was satisfied with how things were going.

“Leo ordered you here as well you know!” Josh exclaimed.

“I’m innocent. I’m here because I have to field questions from the press. You and Toby are here because of the skulking. I’m also here because Leo, quite wisely, realises that it would be ridiculous to try and get you and Toby to talk at the moment without an intelligent, composed woman present.”

“An intelligent, composed woman?”

“Yes.”

“That would be you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay but I have to say-”

Josh never managed to finish his sentence as CJ’s cry of annoyance quieted him and a number of other people in the bar. Toby allowed a small smile to escape and CJ was glad to see it hoping it was a sign of how the evening would turn out.

They finished their drinks and sat in silence. Eventually, using the excuse of wanting CJ to let him have a drink, Josh started the discussion. “The stuff I said about how you spoke to Sam-”

“Mocking, deriding and odious,” Toby stated.

“Er, yeah, that stuff. I didn’t mean it.”

“There you go, CJ, he didn’t mean it. Can we go home now?”

CJ shook her head but her attention was focused on Josh. “You did mean it. What I mean is although you wouldn’t really use those words to describe how Toby treats Sam you do think he was hard on him,” she said.

“Well, yeah, he’s hard on him, not all the time, it’s not like he’s a communications office despot or anything, although he is a little tyrantish at times.”

“Okay, so there’s something to start with right there. Toby, Josh thinks you’re hard on Sam sometimes.

“No he doesn’t. He knows that Sam is harder on himself than I could ever be.”

Josh nodded. “I really didn’t mean what I said back in Leo’s office.”

Silence descended again. CJ didn’t know what to do. She knew what needed fixing, she knew they all wanted it fixed, but she didn’t have a clue where to start. “This isn’t working.” With that she jumped up out of her seat and pulled on her coat. Toby looked as surprised as Josh that CJ was calling it quits. She picked up her glass and finished her drink. “We need a change of venue.” Only when she was at the door did Toby and Josh understand that they were meant to follow and they quickly grabbed their coats and did just that.

They got into the taxi that CJ had hailed and sat quietly waiting to arrive at their destination. Both soon realised that the destination was the White House. Josh asked whose office they were going to but CJ just told them to follow her. She led them to the Chief Usher’s office and carried on to the ground floor. Once there she found the room she was looking for and unlocked the door. 

“That was pretty impressive. Clandestine meetings in the dark to get keys to secret rooms,” Josh said.

“Well, it pays to make friends with the right people, Josh. This isn’t a secret office it’s the Curator’s Office. Obviously an alien part of the building to you as it involves a deep appreciation of the historical importance and significance of the White House.”

It wasn’t an alien room to Josh. He had spent half a day in it collecting photos and documents for Sam’s book. He ignored the temptation to boast about the book.

“You’re friends with the Chief Usher because he can get you into the curator’s room?” he asked.

“Primarily I’m friends with him because he can get me into the White House Chocolate Shop.”

Josh shook his head in feigned disapproval.

CJ placed her coat over a chair and sat down. She had made a wise choice. This part of the building was deserted and it was neutral territory. 

Keen to get out of the room as quickly as possible, Toby restarted the conversation. “So far we’ve established that Josh really didn’t mean what he said and CJ thinks Josh believes I’m too hard on Sam. The fact remains, that no matter what we say or don’t say or mean or don’t mean, you both think I’m to blame for what happened to Sam.” CJ and Josh’s shock at Toby’s sudden candor was nothing compared to the surprise Toby himself felt at the words he had just spoken.

“Toby’s sharing, Josh. You wanna do the same?” CJ asked.

“No, I’m good, why don’t you get this one.”

“Okay,” she tucked a loose strand of hair beneath her ear and leaned towards Toby. “I don’t blame you for what happened to Sam.” 

Toby stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Please, if we don’t achieve anything else tonight, please don’t insult my intelligence.”

She leant back and frowned. “You’d be happier if I blamed you?”

“I’d be happier if you told me the truth.”

“Okay, I blamed you. I spent a while there believing it was your fault that Sam had got in his car angry and upset, your fault he sped away like he did without putting his seatbelt on, your fault he was where he was when that drunken bastard smashed into him.”

Toby raised his eyebrows but thanked her for her frankness. He looked over to Josh and waited for his response. “Oh, well, yeah, pretty much what CJ said except I probably blamed you for more stuff. I also blamed myself because I made Sam come and sit with us when he was leaving the bar.” Josh had been leaning against a counter but he walked over to sit next to Toby. “But, you know, then I saw Stanley and we had a ‘blame’ session and after that I didn’t blame you at all. Only slightly maybe, that sort of illogical ‘I’ll feel better if I can lay this anger on someone else’ type blame.”

“You have categories of blame?” CJ asked.

“Stanley does.”

Toby asked CJ why she had stopped blaming him and she told him it was pretty much the reasons Josh had given except she hadn’t needed to see Stanley because she was a very emotionally literate person. 

Josh huffed and Toby sighed. Josh broke the silence. “Anyway, it’s not really important whether we blame you or not. The real problem is that you blame yourself.”

“There’s a bigger problem,” CJ added, “and that’s your fear that Sam will blame you.”

“Who needs Stanley when I’ve got Freud and Jung here!” He put his head in his hands and rubbed wearily at his face before straightening. “I blame myself for what happened and there’s nothing much you can say to make me feel better about that. I’d blame myself even if I hadn’t been there because Sam’s my deputy and I should have been looking out for him. I should have been sitting down with him and dealing with the Phillips thing, I should have been telling him he was off his game and taking the load off. I shouldn’t have been so…”

“So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Toby,” she threw back at him, “shouldn’t have been so what?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m going back to the first venue, you know, the one where I could drink bourbon.” Toby stood and walked towards the door. He tried the handle. “You locked it?”

CJ nodded and proved the point by taking the key from her pocket and dangling it slowly from its long chain.

“Emotionally literate and cunning,” Josh observed.

Toby hung his head and made a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh. He walked back to the table and sat down. “For reasons I won’t dwell on, I was off my game. Sam had been covering for me, in one week he wrote the remarks on the Transportation Bill, the Flag Day proclamation, the opening remarks for the economic forum and the first draft of the Health Care speech.” He didn’t look at CJ or Josh as he spoke. His gaze remained fixed on the key that was now lying abandoned on the table. “Sam was exhausted, I knew that and I knew he wasn’t sleeping.” Toby stopped, picked up the key and tossed it from hand to hand. CJ and Josh remained silent and waited. “I was beginning to get my swing back; he lost his.” Toby fell silent again so Josh prompted him.

“You said a few weeks ago that Sam knew his writing was off but you didn’t say anything to him. You said you didn’t know why you hadn’t.”

“I didn’t offer to pick up the slack, didn’t tell him to get his head back in the game. I watched him struggle and then when that thing with Phillips happened I…well, I may have overreacted…a little.” 

“A little?” CJ said.

“Okay, yeah, I overreacted a lot and my treatment of Sam may have been slightly mocking, deriding and odious.” He rubbed wearily at his eyebrows. CJ and Josh knew he had more to say and so stayed quiet and still, wary of this rare display of openness coming to an end. “I’ve done a lot of thinking lately about how Sam and I work together. I’ve been looking through his drafts, reading my comments and reading his comments back to me.” CJ laughed softly. “I’ve been trying to work out why I was so hard on him, why I didn’t step up to the plate like he did for me. I’ve been trying to find a word to describe how I was feeling.” Toby said the word feeling as if it was the name of a food that made him nauseated. 

“And did you?” CJ asked.

“Yes.”

“And the word is?”

“Resentful.” 

Josh, who had been leaning forward, raised his eyebrows and sat back on hearing the word. CJ frowned. “You resented Sam?”

Toby nodded slowly. “I told you I got my swing back. I hadn’t. I could write again, there was flow, but there wasn’t much else. Sam knew it, just as sure as he knew I was tired of going to him for help so he played along, accepted my drafts, notes and summaries and carried on polishing them even though he was struggling himself.”

Toby stood and walked over to a table behind them. Josh was shaking his head; an angry frown on his face that CJ knew meant trouble. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm hoping to calm him and stall his reaction to Toby’s words. Toby flicked through a collection of old White House menus, turning them over in feigned interest before returning to the table and sitting once more. “Anyway, like I said, I’ve done a lot of thinking and I’ve come to the conclusion that my resentment of Sam and his talent, youth, energy, eternal optimism, freakish good looks and loyalty wasn’t really resentment at all.” He looked up at his friends for the first time. “It was fear. I’ve lost my talent before, so has Sam, but this was different. I’d lost my enthusiasm as well, my drive my whatever, you want to call it, I’d lost that and without it…” He pulled at his tie, loosening it and pulling the top of his collar open. “Then there was Sam doing this talented, youthful, energetic thing and it scared me. I felt old.” Toby sat back and relaxed, “Now, is it possible I can have some bourbon?”

“Man, when you open up you really open up,” Josh said. CJ was pleased to see his face had lost its expression of anger.

“I just want to be absolutely clear that as far as ‘opening up’ goes, I’m done and I will deny any knowledge of verbalizing my feelings to either of you. And, I would really like to be drinking bourbon now.”

CJ stood and grabbed the keys. “Good plan.” They followed her to the West Wing where Toby made quick work of filling three glasses. They drank to their friendship, their renewed faith in it and to Sam.


	24. Chapter 24

“You can ignore me all you want, I know you love me and the only reason you’re acting this way is because you feel abandoned.”

Sam’s words had no effect. Nickleby stared at him for a moment, sniffed nonchalantly at the offered tuna and returned to the space he was occupying under the dining table. Sam returned to unpacking the endless packets of food his mom seemed to think he’d need on his return to DC. He glanced at the phone and ignored the flashing light telling him he’d received fourteen calls in his absence. He guessed at least thirteen of them would be from Josh and the other one from CJ. He opened a box of homemade cookies, grabbed his coffee and went into the living room to open his mail. 

An hour later he was asleep on the sofa when the phone rang. “Hey, buddy.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at Josh’s casual tone. He had only been home for two hours but for Josh that would have been an excruciating amount of time to wait before calling.

“Hey, yourself.”

“So, you’re home.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

There was a pause, an awkward one. Sam didn’t help him out.

“So, I was thinking, maybe we could do something, have a beer or watch the game.”

“We could do that.”

“You’re allowed to drink now aren’t you?”

“In moderation.”

“Great!”

Another pause but this time Sam filled it. “Do you want to maybe arrange a day and time or were you going to phone back?”

“No! Day and time, okay, good plan. How about tomorrow, eight, I’ll bring the beer.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

“Goodbye, Josh.” Sam hung up and dropped the phone onto the floor. He reached over to the table for a pad and wrote ‘Josh- tomorrow- eight- game’ on it. He wasn’t going to think about anything; what had happened the last time he’d seen Josh or whether they’d worked out what had freaked him out or not. He was just going to go back to sleep.

“He’s home,” Josh said, appearing around the doorframe of Toby’s office.

“I know.”

“I phoned him last night and- wait, how do you know?”

“I have a Sam,” Toby waved his hand in the air, “antenna.”

Josh frowned, slightly annoyed at Toby ruining his announcement. He walked over to the sofa and sat down. Toby peered at him over his laptop. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said sardonically. 

“Thanks,” Josh replied, lifting his feet onto the coffee table. “So, what you working on?”

Toby glared at him, reminded him it was December and asked what the hell he thought he was working on.

“Ah, State of the Union. How’s it going?”

“It’s going back and forth between The President and me.”

“Okay,” Josh replied knowing exactly what that meant. “Need a hand?”

Josh didn’t know what wounded his pride more, the fact that Toby laughed out loud at his suggestion or the sound of Ginger’s laughter when Toby called her into his office and said, “Ginger, can you find a time for me and Josh to meet later. He wants to help with the State of the Union.”

Ginger eventually pulled herself together before asking, “That was just for fun, right?” Toby replied that it was. 

Josh’s pride crumbled further as Ginger now added a huge sigh of relief to its wound. Collecting the remnants of his self-respect, Josh left Toby’s office and returned to his own. 

From that point on his day had been hectic, too hectic to even think much about his plans for the evening but now his thoughts returned to Sam. He hadn’t seen him for a few weeks and telephone conversations were never a good indication of how he was doing. Sam had the ability to sound amazingly well and back to his old self but it was only seeing him in person, watching his reactions and interactions that Josh would be able to fully judge the stage his friend was now at. 

CJ and Toby had teased him when he announced the stages of Sam’s recovery. They had stopped teasing him when Sam’s doctor had agreed with his assessment on more than one occasion. Level eight had been his last diagnosis. Sam was consistently oriented to person, place and time. Josh ignored Toby’s objections that Sam hadn’t been very orientated when he’d thought the White House was in New York. Sam, he had told them authoritatively, can complete familiar tasks for one hour in distracting environments, he is aware of impairments and disabilities when they interfere with task completion and he is able to recognize and acknowledge inappropriate social interaction behaviour while it is occurring. Toby and CJ looked so happy at Josh’s list of progress indicators that he didn’t have the heart to read them the rest. No, he decided, depressed, irritable, easily angered and uncharacteristically dependent were behaviours that were best left unmentioned. 

Josh glanced up at Sam’s window as he pulled his car into the only space left. He grabbed the chips and beer and headed up. The door was opened almost immediately on his knock. Sam stood back to let Josh in and then stood awkwardly before him. “No hug?” Josh asked a huge grin on his face. He placed the snacks and drinks down and hugged Sam. The gesture was returned awkwardly and Josh stepped back and reached for the bottles before following Sam to the kitchen.

He sat and watched as Sam busied himself with placing chips in a bowl and opening bottles. “So how are things in the Golden State?”

Sam shrugged and mumbled a response before placing everything on a tray and leaving the room. Once again Josh stood and followed him. They had watched a good twenty minutes of the game and spoken only a few words when Sam turned down the volume of the TV. “I went sailing when I was home.”

“Your mom said you would.”

“She knew it would make me feel…” he shrugged, “I don’t know, like me again I suppose. She knows me better than I know myself.” He laughed but the sound of it made Josh frown. “Everyone knows me better than I know myself.” He reached over and turned the volume up again. 

CJ’s heel was about to give. She could feel it getting wobblier with every step. She stopped and pulled it off, hopping the rest of her way to the office. The site of Danny standing outside it made her lose her balance and he reached out to steady her. “Hey CJ.”

“Why are dallying outside my office?”

“Why are you only wearing one shoe?”

“I asked first.”

“Because you’re about to invite me in.”

“Am I? I’m about to invite a member of the press corps into the office of the Press Secretary. Should I have Carol make a schedule for all members of the press corps to pop by or do you have a particular reason?”

“Yes, I do. Don’t get all authoritative, CJ, you’re only wearing one shoe.”

CJ frowned at him, “What have you got?” she asked once they were inside. “And I have to say I’m kind of hoping it’s a new heel.”

“Oh it’s a heel alright but not the type you find on a shoe.”

She stopped rummaging in her gym bag and turned to face him. “What have you got?” she asked again this time in a more serious tone. 

He gestured towards the sofa and she sat beside him. “I’ve got an article that’s coming out over the weekend. I don’t know who’s running it so-”

“I need- ”

“I don’t know who’s running it. I don’t know who’s written it. I do know it contains a lot of speculation about Sam.” 

“I take it that speculation isn’t about why the most attractive man in DC isn’t dating?”

“You’ll wish it was. The story is about how Sam has been asked not to return to the White House.” CJ leant forward, her head in her hands. Danny ignored her groans. “There’s a catchy little sound bite from the Brain Injury Association of America.” Her groans intensified. “And there’s also a quote from an inside source which says that the relationship between Sam and his boss was less than good before the accident. Are you going to stop groaning?” She shook her head. “Okay.” Danny waited until CJ removed her hands from her face. “There’s also a picture.”

Her head shot up. “Of what?” 

“Of Sam and Toby before the crash.”

“What!” She jumped out of her seat and started to pace around the room. “There can’t be…there wasn’t anyone there…how can there be a picture?”

“It’s a photo that was taken by some guy on the sidewalk. He was taking a picture of his friends outside the bar. Sam and Toby are standing behind them. You can’t see Sam’s face, you can’t really see Toby’s but you can see enough to work out the conversation isn’t exactly friendly.”

CJ had calmed down a little and had started to think about what to do. “Okay, I’m going to groan for a little while longer and then I’m going to find out who has this and make a deal.”

“For the right buyer this is a big story, I don’t know if fifteen minutes with the President will cut it.”

“Oh it will, because they won’t want to take the other option.”

“Which is?”

“Fifteen minutes with me.”

Danny raised his eyebrows. Fifteen minutes with CJ was his idea of heaven. The look on her face at the moment though made it clear that heaven was the last place she intended on sending whoever was responsible for the story.

“I’ll make a few enquiries, find out what I can.” He went then, knowing when it was best to leave her alone. The sound of a shoe being thrown against the wall followed him down the corridor.


	25. Chapter 25

There was a bird in the communications office. No one knew how it had got in and nobody seemed to be able to coax it out. Toby watched, fascinated, as it flew wildly around the Bullpen. Ginger was matching its desperate flight with her own frantic movements. “Oh God, get it out!”

“If you don’t like birds then go somewhere else. You’re making it nervous,” Bonnie said as she climbed onto the desk and tried to guide the bird towards freedom.

Keen to get away from the two agitated women it saw a flash of daylight and darted towards it. Toby had been watching the action from his desk but now the bird had chosen his office for his escape route he jumped out of his seat and closed the door, shutting his assistants out of the room. The bird sat trembling on the windowsill, dangerously close to becoming tangled in the blinds. Toby made a shushing noise and carefully leaned around the bird to unlatch the window. The sound of it being pushed open set the bird off in frantic flight once more. It flew around the room before returning to flutter around the blinds. Toby pulled them back and once again it panicked and flew further from the gap which was now wide enough for it to fly through. Toby sighed in frustration. “Come on bird, let me help you!” 

Whether it was his plea or the fact that at that moment the breeze sent the blinds billowing out to reveal an even larger gap Toby didn’t know, but the bird suddenly gathered its wits and flew up and out of the window and straight on into the grey December sky. Toby watched until it was just a speck and then he walked to the door, opened it, threw Bonnie and Ginger a condescending look and went back to his desk.

Josh knew the waiting room quite well now. He knew the stack of magazines was replenished every three weeks, he knew the plants were all plastic apart from the one which was slowly dying and he knew the receptionist had a crush on Dr Graham.

Sam had taken in slightly less of his surroundings during his many visits to Dr Graham’s office. He picked up a magazine and flicked through the pages not taking in much of those either. The receptionist’s face brightened as her phone buzzed and she spoke a few words. “Mr Seaborn?”

Sam took a deep breath and stood before looking down at Josh. “You coming?”

Josh quickly stood. Sam was irritable this morning and although Josh was used to his different moods he disliked this one the most. 

Dr Graham was, as always, impressed with Sam’s progress. He was less impressed with his willingness to talk about his return to work. 

“It was fine. I felt a little apprehensive but it was fine.”

“You ended up in the ER!”

“Well, you know, work sucks.”

“Okay, Sam.” Graham leant back and studied his patient. “How was your trip to California?”

“Great.”

“Were you able to relax there?”

“Yeah.”

“He went sailing,” Josh interrupted. “Tell him about the sailing.” 

“I went sailing.”

Graham removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “Okay.” He studied Sam again, replaced his glasses then flicked through a file on his desk. “Physically you’re in good shape. This is a really positive prognosis for your ankle. I’m glad that’s left you with no real problems. The headaches are continuing but they’re not debilitating. You’re managing for increased periods on your own. This is all good.” He removed his glasses once again. “I don’t want you thinking the decompensation you experienced is a set-back that we can’t handle but I do think we need to look carefully about how we proceed with getting you back to work.” Graham looked at Sam waiting for some sort of response. “You still want to return to work?”

“Yes, because there’s always the possibility that I didn’t humiliate myself enough the last time.” Sam heard Josh say his name quietly and knew he was trying to pull him out of the uncooperative mood he was in. He ignored him. “This is bullshit. Good news, Sam, your ankle’s healed, your headaches have improved, you can manage to be in your own home for a few hours without freaking out but unfortunately you’re still a raving lunatic.”

“Sam!” Josh’s voice, louder than before. Sam felt a hand on his forearm and looked down at it surprised to find he was now standing. He sat heavily and rubbed at his eyes before mumbling an apology.

Graham waited for Sam to compose himself. “Do you still want to return to work?”

Sam smiled at Graham’s feigned disinterest in his outburst and the last of his anger left him. “Yes, I still want to return to work.” 

Josh let out the breath he had been holding in the form of a huge sigh and sat back and listened as Sam and his doctor talked about Sam’s latest steps on his road to recovery.

Toby knew there was an article and a picture and he knew CJ was worried. The meeting he’d had with her and Leo this morning had done little to assuage his fears. The story was going to be published it was just a case now of finding out when and minimising the damage as much as they could. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear CJ tap at his door or notice as it was pushed open and she entered his office. 

“Hey, amigo, I am not the bringer of glad tidings.”

“Well go away then.”

She collapsed onto the sofa. “I can’t stop the article.”

“Have you seen it?”

“No, and before you ask I haven’t seen the picture.”

“When?”

“I don’t know but they’re not going to sit on it for long.”

“Who’s got it?”

“Tomorrow, The DC Reporter, the day after that…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence, they’d both seen stories they couldn’t control spiral away from them like tornados.

Toby’s attention wandered to the window. “There was a bird trapped in here earlier. It kept flying towards the window, getting all tangled up. It wouldn’t let me help it.” He turned to CJ, and laughed softly. “Anyway, it got out in the end.” He stood awkwardly looking at his friend and welcomed the warmth she sent as she looked back at him. 

Leo made sure the door to his office was closed and Margaret at her desk before he picked up the receiver. He hadn’t spoken to Claire for nearly a week. A hectic week for him and a week spent trying to catch up at work for her. Leo knew Claire would be fine about that. One of the things he loved about their relationship was that she put no pressure on him. She knew that at this point in time his job had to come first and she had never tried to make him choose between them. 

They swapped their news and Leo loosened his tie, grateful as always for the ability Claire had to make him feel like kicking his shoes off even when he was sitting next door to the Oval Office. Both were reluctant to broach the subject of Sam and his return to work. When Leo finally did, he could almost feel the sense of calm dispersing like a lost balloon drifting into the sky.

“You know he’s ready for this.” Leo was surprised at how reluctant Claire was to see Sam return to work. 

“I know he is. I’m just not sure I am!” 

“Last time, that thing that happened, it won’t happen again. Josh has been working on a- hear me out, Claire, Josh has been working on this schedule for Sam that keeps it light but gets him back in the game.” 

“Maybe he could work from home? Have you talked to him? He won’t talk to me about it. He just says he’s keen to get back.”

“Well there you go then.” 

“But he isn’t! There’s something, I don’t know, there’s always been something about work, about Toby. We’ve talked about this, Leo. I don’t think Sam should go back to working with Toby until he’s dealt with whatever’s wrong.”

“And I don’t think he will until he’s back working with Toby.” He glanced at the clock and realised he was late for his meeting now. “I have to go. I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure Josh does too. We aren’t doing this lightly.”

Claire told him she knew that. She was certain Leo had spent more time thinking and worrying about Sam than he let on even to her. The call was ended, both Claire and Leo feeling much the better for it.

Leo talked to Josh and then he talked to CJ. He had a quiet word with Bartlet and he even chatted to Bonnie and Ginger. He spoke to everyone about Sam’s second return to work except Toby. Josh had told him all he needed to know about Toby’s state of mind regarding Sam. It was a week after his conversation with Claire that Leo talked to Sam. He took him out to dinner. He wanted a neutral venue but he also wanted to see Sam out of the comfort zone of his own home. 

They met outside. It had rained most of the day and the sky had stubbornly remained grey even when the rain had stopped. Leo saw Sam waiting and picked up his pace towards him. They were seated quickly although the restaurant was filling up. For the start of the meal Sam was quiet. Leo thought he seemed nervous. They chatted about work, a senator whose wife had decided to announce to the world her husband was gay and the President’s latest obsession with facts about volcanoes. 

After a glass of wine Sam began to relax and Leo turned the conversation towards his return to work. “So how ya feel about coming back to work next week?”

“You mean coming back to work again.”

Leo smiled. “Yeah, Sam, again.”

“Because the first time didn’t go so great.”

“I’m not disagreeing. No reason not to try again.”

Sam glanced to his left where a large group had just been seated. “What about John…Jim…Jake?”

“James.”

“What about him?”

“He’s going to carry on with the communications team for a while. He’s got this job offer, lecturing thing, I don’t know the details. He’s waiting on the confirmation.”

Sam rolled his napkin into a tube and then flat again. “Next week?”

Leo nodded. A burst of laughter came from the table next to them. Sam flinched and rolled the napkin again. “What does Toby think?”

“I haven’t asked him, don’t intend to. I’m asking you, it’s what you think I’m interested in.” Leo waited for Sam’s answer. Behind him he could see a large cake being wheeled out on a trolley.

“My doctor says I should go back. He thinks I’m ready. I am ready, I mean physically, I suppose. It’s just, I still get these headaches and I don’t always follow things…not like I could. There’s no way I could handle fulltime, not yet, maybe later, you know, when I stop getting headaches and when I can get things straight because they’re not always straight and I…I…I’m sorry I have to get out of here.” With that Sam stood, knocking his chair onto the floor in the process. He placed it back under the table, apologised again and headed for the exit.

Leo cursed as he hastily signalled for the bill. Why hadn’t he seen it? The noise from the table next to them was getting on his nerves so it must have been unbearable for Sam. He hurried outside and relaxed a little on finding Sam hands in pockets, perched on the hood of his car a sheepish smile on his face. 

“You know, Sam, if you were worried about paying the bill you could have just said.”

Sam let a huff of laughter escape. Leo watched it drift between them in the cold night air. “I guess I flunked the test.”

“Tonight wasn’t a test. It was a very expensive dinner is what it was.”

Sam smiled. Leo didn’t see it and so he turned towards him. “It wasn’t a test. I wanted to see how you’re doing, how you’re handling being out of your comfort zone.”

“Not very well.”

“Hang on there, Sam. You knew the noise was stressing you out so you got the hell out of there. That’s coping. Josh would have something to say here about stages of recovery but we can both probably do with a rest from that. You’re ready, Sam. And I have to tell you, we need you back there.”

“Ok.” Sam looked at Leo. “Ok.”

“Good! What do you say to a coffee before we call it a night? We’ll ask to be seated away from the party from hell.” Leo put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and led him back to the hotel. Sam was coming back to work and Leo would make sure that this time, he stayed there.


	26. Chapter 26

Ginger stood back and admired the floral display on Sam’s desk. She straightened the pile of cards that had arrived since it had become known in the West Wing he was returning and then turned the flowers around one more time. Toby entered the room quietly and stood behind her. “That’s nice, what you’ve done there. He’ll like that.”

She nodded. “We’ve missed him.”

“Yeah.”

Ginger smiled before turning to Toby and kissing him lightly on the cheek. “I know you have,” she said before leaving him alone. It was six o’clock, Sam was due at nine. Toby savoured the peace of the early morning bullpen and then went to look once more at the final draft of the State of the Union.

Josh was sitting on CJ’s desk oblivious to the obvious relief she was feeling every time she looked at another front page of the pile of newspapers in front of her. “This is top of the range; it’s not even in the stores yet. I know this guy who works for the com-” He looked at the top of CJ’s head. “You’re not even pretending to listen to me!”

She nodded in confirmation as another paper was tossed onto the pile on the floor. “I’m not even pretending to be pretending.”

Josh frowned as he worked through her sentence then placed the watch on the paper she was browsing. “Well, listen up, Claudia-Jean, because I have reached ‘return to work gift’ heights never before reached.”

She pulled her glasses down her nose and looked at the watch disdainfully before returning to her search through the papers. “I got Sam a pen that has a microphone it in so he can record notes and stuff he wants to remember without feeling it’s too obvious.”

“That’s a really great present!”

“I know.”

“It’s considerate and really makes things easier for him.”

“I know.”

“My present sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Do you wanna swap?”

CJ threw Josh an ‘as if’ look. He walked to the door but stopped before opening it. “You’re gonna know the story’s out before you read it in the paper.”

Her hand froze over the page she was turning. “I just wanted to…I don’t know what I wanted to do.”

“Stop it, you wanted to stop it, but you can’t.” 

She pushed the papers away. “True, Joshua. What I can do is make you take me to the Mess and get me a coffee and a huge muffin.”

“Will you have a proper look at the watch?”

“Yes I will, and I might even say something nice about it.” 

Leo had told Sam he would pick him up and take him into work and so Sam stood outside his apartment, tugging at his tie and wishing he’d bought a new suit.  
He hurried down to Leo’s car, there were no spaces and he knew if he didn’t get in quick he’d have to wait for it to go around the block again. The rear door was pushed ajar and Sam jumped in. “Did you see that guy!” Leo said by way of greeting of the man who had squeezed his car in behind Leo’s.

He finally finished his rant and glanced at Sam. “How ya feeling?”

“Good,” Sam blurted out as if he’d been rehearsing the response all morning.

“Okay.”

The rest of the journey was spent in silence as the driver navigated the building traffic. He made quick work of parking and Leo and Sam walked together to Leo’s office. Once there, Sam was told to sit and offered a coffee. He spent half an hour there before Leo took him to CJ’s office where he was offered more coffee. He was wondering if his day was going to be spent being ushered between offices, being given coffee, when CJ arrived. She wrapped him up in a hug and told him how great he looked. She took a seat beside him and he knew from her expression that he was about to hear something he wouldn’t like. He listened as CJ told him about the story. He nodded when she assured him that she had done all she could to stop it, that they were going to come out fighting once it was out and that he didn’t need to worry about it. 

“What else? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

CJ glanced at Leo before continuing. “There’s a picture, a photo of you and Toby just before the accident.”

Sam nodded slowly. The room was spinning a little and so he stopped nodding and looked up at Leo. “I should probably go to my office now. Unless you have something planned I mean. I should probably go and do some work.”

He liked the flowers and the pile of cards and the welcoming hugs Ginger and Bonnie gave him. He went next door to Toby’s office and sat down on the sofa. Toby closed the door. “How you feeling?”

“Good.”

“I don’t know what I should…do you want to get a coffee or something?”

“No!”

“Okay, so,” Toby walked to his desk and picked up a file. He sat down next to Sam, the sofa dipping with his weight, “I thought you could start looking at some of these, start getting up to speed. There’s a paper Leo wants you to write, it’s an environment thing; he thought you’d enjoy getting into that. So you could do that.”

“Or?”

“Or,” Toby reached for a file from his desk, “you could start looking at the State of the Union.”

Sam smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“He’s doing good,” Josh told Leo after a staff meeting. Sam had been back for a week. He worked until two, later if he could manage it, and the general verdict was that he was doing okay. He couldn’t hide how tired he felt and a lot of his time was spent hiding out or sleeping on CJ’s couch. But, when he was in his office, he was functioning well or at least was appearing to do so. There was no writing happening. His work was mainly proofreading. Although his short-term memory remained poor he found he could remember speeches he had written years ago and quotes that he was surprised he even knew. It had only been a week though and Josh soon discovered his verdict on Sam’s ability to cope was probably a little premature.

It was the Monday morning of Sam’s second week back at work. Josh noticed he looked more tired than he had on Friday and wondered if he should have kept tabs on him over the weekend. Allegations of financial impropriety in the press had kept him busy and those same allegations were the subject of the discussion he was having with Sam and Toby. Josh was very much in favour of still attending a dinner funded by the company the allegations were against but hosted by a senior citizens group. 

Sam listened to his reasons stood up and walked over to the window. He perched on the windowsill and waited until Josh had finished. “Really? You still think we should go?”

“I do,” Josh confirmed. “I think if we back out now it will look like we’re snubbing them.”

“We are snubbing them, we’re meeting here to work out how to snub them, this is a snub meeting,” Sam pointed out.

Toby smiled, it flashed across his face and then disappeared. “They won’t think that. They’ll know exactly why we’ve cancelled. Let’s invite them to the fireworks thing it will be over by then one way or another.”

“Yes! Excellent. I’ll write a short letter that will be suitably regretful and sincere.” Sam folded his arms and looked down at his feet. “I might send them some flowers too.”

“Sam!” Toby warned. “They’re militant, opinionated, senior citizens they don’t want flowers. They want increased Medicare and-”

“A bunch of flowers never offends, Toby, and I think it might just go a long way to making our snub a little easier to bear.”

“I think flowers are a nice gesture.” Josh agreed. “Never let it be said that this White House is above the sending of a simple bouquet to our friends that we have snubbed.”

“Exactly!” Sam stood away from the window and put his hands in his pockets. “I might even pen a short verse for the card.”

Toby picked up a file and shook his head. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to do some work that might actually make a difference now.”

“I’m going to make a gesture which will be remembered-” Sam stopped mid-sentence and frowned, “remembered…fo…fo…”

“Forever?” Josh supplied helpfully.

Sam frowned and shook his head. “Remembered fo…fo…damn it!”

Toby’s head sprung up at Sam’s shouted curse. 

“Hey,” Josh advised, “they’ll remember it that’s the main thing.”

“I c-can’t think of the d-damn word.” Sam held his head in his hands as if he could squeeze the word from it. “Fondly!” he exclaimed.

“There you go,” Toby said but he shared a concerned look with Josh. 

Sam was rubbing at his forehead. He looked at the sofa where Josh was sitting and then at Toby’s desk. His attention turned to the Bullpen outside. It was as if he was cataloguing his surroundings. He ignored Josh who quietly called his name and walked into his office, pulling the door closed behind him. 

Josh followed and knocked a couple of times before going in. Sam was sitting at his desk, a file open before him but clearly not being read.

“You okay?”

Sam looked up and for a horrifying moment Josh thought he didn’t know who he was. He heard Sam say his name as if confirming to himself the identity of the person standing in front of him. Josh asked him again if he was okay although he was pretty sure he wasn’t.

“I’m, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just looking at…I’m just reading this,” he glanced at the file, “this report. I’m reading this report. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, I need to know you’re okay.”

“Well I am, so…”

Josh sat down. “What happened back there?”

Sam rubbed at his head then realised Josh was studying him and so stopped. “Nothing happened. I forget words sometimes you know that.”

“No, after that. You looked a little, I don’t know, spooked or something.”

Sam shook his head and picked up the file. “I’m fine, Josh. I just need to work.”

“You’re not fine, you don’t look fine and you’re certainly not acting fine.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only one who thinks there’s something wrong here.”

“Sam, talk to me. If you need some time or something you can-”

“For fuck’s sake, are you even listening to me? I’m fine, but I swear to God you won’t be if you don’t get the fuck out of my office right now!”

Josh stood quickly, holding his hands up before him, and slowly backed out of the room and straight into Toby who was standing outside the door. “What’s going on?”

“He’s fine,” Josh deadpanned. “Let’s leave him alone for a while, okay?” 

Toby reluctantly agreed and they went to his office. Sam had already pulled the blinds on the adjoining window and so they were left with sitting in silence and trying to decipher what was happening next door by any noises they heard. There were none. Toby returned to his desk and went back to work. He handed a pile of papers to Josh who sat on the sofa and starting to browse through them. Still no noise came from next door. Josh finished the paragraph he was working on and put the papers down. “Maybe I should go back in there?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s very quiet.”

“Yes.”

“I should probably go in.”

“Yeah.”

Before Josh could summon the nerve to face Sam’s anger again, he heard the door to the office next door open and watched as Sam hurried through the Bullpen.

“I think I may have missed the boat there.”

Toby looked up from his work. “Yes.”

Sam stood at the door to CJ’s office and put his hand up to knock. She was on the phone, nodding and scribbling notes as she listened to the caller. His hand wavered in mid-air and then he started to turn away. CJ caught sight of him and gestured at Carol to grab him. Carol guided him in and closed the door behind him. He sat on the sofa, hands resting between his knees as CJ finished the call. “That was what is commonly known in media parlance as a scoop.” Sam showed no interest in the caller or the reason for the call and so CJ walked over to the sofa and sat beside him. 

“You here for work or something else?” Sam didn’t look at her and now, sitting close to him, she could see the paleness of his face, slight tremble of his hands and red-rimmed eyes. Instinctively she stood up and pushed him down gently so that he was lying on the sofa. She pulled the comforter from the back of the chair and placed it over him. 

“I shouldn’t be here.”

She knelt down so her face was level with Sam’s. “It’s fine. You’ve got my sofa whenever you need it.”

“No,” Sam was falling asleep so CJ leaned closer to hear him, “shouldn’t be here, at work. I keep forgetting and I’m useless. I’m useless now.”

It was too late for comfort or reassurance, Sam was already asleep. She placed her hand on his head and whispered, “You’re not useless, Sam.” She stood and opened the door to her office and told Josh Sam was asleep. She led him away and back to his office where they sat in silence. After a while, Toby joined them but added nothing to the silence except his own worries and fears.


	27. Chapter 27

"People prefer it? Did I miss a poll? Were people polled on this while I wasn't looking?" Toby stormed once again from his office towards the desks outside. Ginger and Bonnie prayed this time he would turn and go back into his office but realised he had no intention of doing so anytime soon. "We believe in justice, we believe in human rights we believe…" Toby momentarily lost his train of rant and paused by Ginger's desk. "I don't care who you have to talk to or what you have to do but if pecan pie isn’t back on the Mess menu by five o'clock then this White House will be short one Communications Director!" Ginger nodded and held in her sigh of relief until Toby's office door slammed shut.

"What in the name of all that is sane possessed you to tell him they'd stopped serving pie?" Ginger whispered to Bonnie.

"He asked me why there wasn't any pie," Bonnie explained, shrugging.

"Is it me?" Sam asked on hearing Toby's door slam as he entered the Bullpen.

"No, pecan pie."

"Okay, Good." He smiled.

Toby watched as Sam entered his office and waited a few moments before following him in. Sam had slept on CJ's sofa for three hours and had then gone home. Josh had called later in the evening and told Toby that he seemed fine but wasn't talking about what had happened. Toby frowned as his attention was drawn to the blinds being pulled and took that as his cue to go next door. He knocked and then entered. "They've stopped serving pecan pie in the Mess," he said by way of greeting.

"Hence the door slamming."

Toby nodded and thrust his hands in his pockets. "How you doing?"

"Well, I'm not a big fan of pecan pie so I'm doing a little better than you right now."

Toby nodded again and walked closer to the desk. "Are you still coming tonight?"

Sam finally looked up from the phone messages he was reading and said he was. "I'm looking forward to it. Is CJ making that dessert again?"

"Yeah. Listen, about what happened yesterday, the word thing. Josh said you zoned out there for a while."

The papers stilled in his hands and Sam took a deep calming breath. "Toby, really, I can't do this if you guys start overanalysing every time I misspeak."

Toby scratched at his beard. "And we can't do this if every time you misspeak you squirrel yourself away."

Sam placed the papers on his desk. Toby could see his hand was shaking and judging from the rising colour in his cheeks the tremor was born of anger. "I wasn't hiding, I was-" another deep breath, "I think we've got staff now." He pushed past Toby, the pile of messages fluttering across the desk in his wake.

Leo was on the phone when Sam arrived so he sat and concentrated on calming down. He hated being so out of control of his emotions especially as he knew how much it made his friends worry. By the time the others had arrived he had controlled his breathing. He smiled at CJ and Josh and returned the nod that Toby sent his way.

"Toby, Sam, you two might wanna find somewhere else to work today. They're doing some digging, drilling, I don't know what the hell they're doing but they're doing it outside your offices."

"You see, normally this sort of thing wouldn't bother me. I would have pie to look forward to-"

"Don't start," CJ warned.

"Start what?" Leo asked, instantly realising his error as CJ started to explain how Toby had been badgering her to include the loss of pecan pie in her briefing.

"You want the White House press secretary to tell the press corps that the Mess has stopped serving pecan pie?" Leo asked incredulously.

"I think there should be some explanation for the lack of productivity from the communications office in the coming weeks."

Leo rubbed at his forehead then walked out of his office. He returned a few seconds later and greeted everyone.

"We're pretending this meeting has just started," Josh said.

"Yes, Josh, we're pretending this meeting has just started, good morning everyone."

Toby rolled his eyes and Sam tried to hide his smile while Leo started a conversation about Congressman Hestle and his recent comments about gays in the military. The subject was debated at length with Toby airing his disdain at the congressmen who seemed determined to make his life a living hell. Leo told CJ to field questions on his remarks but to make sure his invite to the Armed Forces dinner was released. The conversation turned to where Josh was with gaining votes for the FAA bill that wasn't going to plan. Josh was sure he could make a deal to stop the rider that he knew was being planned. Names of potential supporters, willing and otherwise, were bandied around before Josh held up his hands and insisted he was confident he could get a result by the end of the day.

Sam waited for Toby to finish harrumphing at Josh's self-confidence. He knew it was going to be a hard sell but believed it was important that they made some sort of comment on Hestle. He looked up and realised that Toby had finished talking. "Anything else?" Leo asked, clearly keen for the meeting to end.

"Yeah, Leo, I've got a thing," Sam said. He sat forward and began to tell them his views. He was sounding, he thought, quite convincing when Toby stopped him dead.

"Sam, you said all this at the start of the meeting and no one agreed with you then. We don't have time for this." As soon as he said the words he regretted them. Sam wasn't wasting their time; he was losing his own.

"Hold on, when have I said this before? I mentioned Hestle to you yesterday, Toby, but apart from that…" Toby stepped forwards and asked in a casual voice if Sam remembered the start of the meeting. "What sort of…of course I remember, I even took notes," Sam said holding his pad up defiantly.

In an even quieter voice Toby told Sam to look at what he had written. Sam frowned then he looked down. His stomach leapt as he scanned the name Hestle and then flipped when he read the notes detailing their discussion and agreed actions. He looked back up at Toby and the confusion on his face softened Toby's words. "It's okay, Sam, you just forgot that's all. Go sit in my office." Sam nodded and left.

The others stood to follow but Leo flinging the file he had been holding onto his desk stopped them. "He's fine, Josh?" his voice was dangerously low.

"Leo. You gotta understand-"

"He's fine?"

"Considering what stage he's at-"

"He's fine?"

"He is fine. I mean, for someone recovering from a brain injury he's fine. What did you expect?"

Leo looked like he was going to continue his tirade but his body sagged and he pulled off his glasses and sat down. "I don't know." He gestured for Toby and CJ to sit back down. "Tell me everything you're not telling me so next time Claire phones I can give the whole story not just the Lyman 'he's fine' version."

They talked for a little while. There were no surprises and they concluded that Sam really was doing as well as could be expected. They also agreed none of them could get used to seeing Sam struggle for words, zone out, try to cope with excruciating headaches or spend half the day on CJ's sofa. Toby told him what Sam had said that morning about not analysing everything he does. They all agreed apart from Josh who felt as Sam's unofficial medical mentor, he was allowed to analyse every aspect of Sam's behaviour.

When Toby got back to office he found Sam looking out of the window. He closed the door and Sam turned to face him. "Have you finished discussing me?"

"Yeah. We've concluded that you're doing okay and that Josh is some sort of frustrated medical practitioner."

Sam attempted a smile but it was short-lived. He told Toby he was going to his office and, as usual, closed the door and pulled down the blinds before sitting at his desk.

The workmen outside had started their task by measuring and digging. Toby feigned disinterest but by lunchtime he was considering asking Bonnie to find out exactly what they were doing. The sound of muffled conversation and spades slicing through the ground had actually been quite a calming noise during the morning. At lunchtime, the real noise began. A slab of concrete was being removed and the sound was deafening. Toby started to complain and asked Bonnie to find out not what they were doing but when they would be stopping. Anyone who didn't have to stay in the Bullpen had found somewhere else to work. Toby considered suggesting he and Sam do the same, especially when he peered through a crack in the blinds to see Sam covering his ears.

Just as he started to gather his things together the noise ended. He sighed deeply and returned to his work. He had only written a few lines when a new din filled the room. This one wasn't as loud. Having moved the concrete, a machine had arrived that was slowly prising the remaining concrete slabs away from a metal frame.

Even in his office Josh could hear the mechanical whirring. He gave up on his work and peered out of his window, craning to try to see the workmen. The sound was unsettling. There was something about it that made his stomach turn. He thought back to Rosslyn and its soundtrack that had haunted him for so long but could think of no noise like this one.

In his office, Sam was gazing at a pile of unopened mail but what he was seeing was an enormous glass spider web, flashing blue lights illuminating it in a steady rhythm.

Once more, Toby began gathering his things. He peeked through the window to Sam's office but couldn't see him so assumed he had already found somewhere quieter to work. "Ginger!" His arms were full of papers and files, a few sheets were slipping from one of the folders and he hugged his belongings closer to him to keep them from falling to the floor. "Ginger!" Any patience he'd had was long gone and Ginger reluctantly went into his room.

"You called, and in a very aggressive and impatient manner I might add."

"Did Bonnie find out when this," he gestured vaguely outside, "is going to end?"

"They've hit a pipe or maybe it was a cable. They hit something anyway and they're not going to be done until six."

Toby grabbed for one of the files but it slipped through his arm and fell to the floor scattering pieces of paper around his feet. The clunk of his head against Ginger's as they both moved to retrieve the papers did nothing to help his mood.

"Donna!" Josh's assistant appeared at the door knowing by his tone of voice something was wrong.

"What's that noise? Leo said there was some work going on but what the hell are they doing out there?"

Donna didn't come back with a sarcastic comment, make fun of Josh or mock his exasperation. She took one look at him, remembered he sometimes heard sirens and went straight back to her desk to find out how she could stop the workmen. She phoned Bonnie and found out what was going on. When she returned to Josh's office he was staring out of the window. "They're finishing up about six. They're using a machine because they’ve," she glanced down at her notes, "hit a pipe or something."

Josh thanked her and went off in search for Sam.


	28. Chapter 28

"Josh?" Stanley leaned forward and called Josh's name again until he had his attention. "You zoned out a little on me there. You were telling me about Donna finding out what the noise was," he prompted.

"Yeah, sorry, I was remembering."

Stanley nodded. “Okay, so tell me, what happened next?"

Josh stretched back into the chair and placed his hands behind his head. “What happened next can only be described as the PTSD equivalent to a perfect storm.”

“Okay, I mean, wow, but okay. Before we go there let me recap where we are so far. We’ve got loud machinery in the background, some sort of memory lapse in the meeting and Toby in a less than good mood. Right?” Josh nodded. “Donna came to tell you what the noise was,” he prompted.

“Yeah, right. Donna came into my office and told me about the noise. Then I went to look for Sam.”

Josh saw the closed door and blinds and was about to knock when Ginger told him Sam wasn’t in there. He started for Toby’s office before being told that Toby had escaped to the Roosevelt Room to work. 

He thought twice about disturbing Toby, knowing he had got very little work done. His desire to see Sam outweighed his worry about disturbing Toby though. “Where’s Sam?” he asked as he entered the room.

“Somewhere far away from the sound of what Bonnie reliably informs me is a hydraulic cutter, if he’s got any sense.” Toby was far too busy fuming at the aggravating noise to notice Josh sag slightly, his face growing pale as he muttered a soft curse. Irritated that Josh wasn’t joining in with his rant against the workmen, Toby looked up. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Josh shook his head to reply. He walked over to a chair and sat down heavily. 

“You need some water or something? Should I go get some water?”

Again Josh shook his head. “I just worked out…all afternoon I’ve been hearing that noise and trying to figure out why it’s making me feel so sick.” He leant forward and rubbed at his face. “It’s a hydraulic cutter. It’s the same machine they used to cut Sam out of the car.”

“Well then, that may explain my more than usual irritation. I suppose we can-”

Josh shot to his feet. “Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because if it bugged me and it bugged you-”

“We need to find him,” Toby said and Josh followed him from the room.

They hadn’t got far before they met CJ coming to find them. “It wasn’t in the papers.” At Toby and Josh’s puzzled frowns she gestured for them to follow her back to her office but Toby shook his head.

“We may have a problem. Josh has made a connection between the noise,” he stopped and rubbed at his forehead. “We need to find Sam. He may be having a thing.”

CJ didn’t understand a word that Toby was saying but she understood that he and Josh looked worried. She suggested they go look while she contacted the secret service to see if they had seen Sam. In no time a covert operation had been mounted including the assistants and two agents. They looked everywhere. One agent assigned himself to restroom duty regretting the decision immediately on realising just how many restrooms there were not to mention the strange looks he was starting to get. 

Sam hadn’t signed out and a quick search of security footage showed he hadn’t left by any of the main exits. Josh told everyone to take a break while he and Toby decided what to do next.

The flashing blue lights had stopped. In their place was a steady beam of light. It swirled around Sam settling on his face and causing him to close his eyes. The sound of cutting and metal grating against metal continued. He was trapped and his arms struggled uselessly at something tight around his neck. Someone was talking to him. The comforting words managed to force their way through the other sounds. He turned to find the source of them but was blinded again by the light. 

“We need to tell, Leo.” Josh said as he paced around Toby’s office.

“Tell him what,” Toby replied, “that we can’t find Sam?”

“Yes! We tell him we can’t find Sam and there’s a good chance that he’s going through some sort of PTSD nightmare right now because of that fucking noise that won’t stop.” 

Sam heard Josh’s voice and remembered he had been beside him. Sam listened, tried to focus on the sound of his friend’s words. He could hear him shouting, far away. He had to get him back beside him. He’d stay trapped if Josh wasn’t with him.

CJ knocked lightly on the door and entered the room. Her greeting took the form of her telling them they should tell Leo. 

“And what do you want us say to him when Sam turns up from having gone out to grab a bagel?” Toby asked.

“Grab a bagel?” Josh shouted. “What the…? Where the hell have you been for the past few months, Toby? 

“In denial. I was just slipping back there for a moment.”

Toby’s frank admission silenced the group which made Sam’s cry of Josh’s name all the more startling. The three friends stared at each other for a second. “He wasn’t in his office,” Toby said quietly. 

“Well he is now,” Josh said as he bolted next door. 

All the blinds were down and the only light came from a desk lamp. Josh reached for the light switch but stopped, instinctively knowing suddenly lighting the room might be a bad idea. He moved behind the desk and found Sam curled up tightly. He was shivering violently and calling out for Josh to help but was oblivious to Josh’s presence at his side. Josh sat on his haunches at a loss to know what to do for the best. Then there was a flurry of activity. Mrs Bartlet appeared with the White House doctor, Toby pulled Josh up and out of the room while Charlie banged on the window to get the workmen to stop. Josh wrestled free from Toby’s grasp and returned to Sam’s side. He watched as the doctor pulled a syringe from his bag.

“What are you doing? He doesn’t need that!”

“Josh, let Doctor Harris work,” Abbey urged, frowning as Sam became even more agitated as the doctor tried to break through to him. 

Reluctantly Josh backed away and watched helplessly as Sam continued to fight against the doctor. He shouted and raged and then suddenly he seemed to give up his fight and started to cry. The doctor knew his mood could change back to an aggressive one just as quickly and he took the opportunity to administer the sedative. 

Abbey had already decided what needed to happen next and she turned to Josh, calling his name twice before taking his attention away from Sam. “Get Toby and take Sam up to the residence.”

Josh called for Toby and together they lifted Sam to his feet. He was groggy, and getting drowsier by the minute but with Josh and Toby on either side he managed to walk. Josh was so focused on his task of helping Sam and increasingly needing to keep him upright that he didn’t notice Abbey was there until she opened a door and told them to place Sam on the bed. Toby left the room but Josh stayed and watched as Abbey removed Sam’s tie and shoes and spread a comforter over him. 

“Thank you, Mrs Abbey,” Sam said as turned on his side, pulling the blanket over his head.

Abbey couldn’t help laughing gently at the scene. She found Sam Seaborn endearing in normal circumstances and right now he was, she decided, reaching new levels. She turned to see Josh pulling a chair to the side of the bed. “Are you staying?”

“I thought I would in case he needs something when he wakes up.”

“You know, we’re pretty well staffed here, Josh.” She didn’t press the point though. 

Sam didn’t wake during the night. He was still asleep when the morning sun highlighted the room’s hues of rich yellows and reds. Josh stretched carefully. During the night he had given up on the chair, grabbed an old quilt and moved to the bed. He leaned over and called Sam’s name. No response came so he called louder. Still no response so he leaned closer and poked Sam’s arm. Restless and hungry, Josh rose and walked over to the window. He could see the workmen’s equipment from yesterday and wondered if they had been told to halt work until Sam was off the premises. He could do with not having to hear that noise again as well.

A soft knock on the door was followed by Charlie’s entrance. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“The President wondered if you’d like to join him for breakfast.”

Josh frowned. “How’s his mood?”

“He’s…” Charlie thought of a word to describe Bartlet’s disposition, “chirpy.”

Josh groaned, that was all he needed. He wasn’t a morning person. He wasn’t particularly a breakfast person. The idea of breakfast with a man who would no doubt be baffling him with facts about brain injuries or worse, PTSD, filled him with a sense of dread. “I should probably stay here.”

“The President thought you might say that so he’s asked me to sit a while and let you know if Sam wakes up.”

“Et tu, Charlie?”

“Go, man, it will be fun. The President made the pancakes himself.”

Josh groaned, mumbled something about Charlie’s idea of fun and revenge being best served cold and reluctantly left the room.


	29. 29

Chirpy was an understatement. Josh sat silently while Bartlet proudly presented a pile of pancakes along with a choice of syrups. “Try the peach one,” Bartlet insisted as he loaded Josh’s plate. He didn’t talk about Sam or what had happened yesterday. He didn’t even get too involved with pancake or syrup trivia. He simply provided what Josh had to admit was a delicious breakfast and a start to the day that was as stress-free as possible. 

Not long after the third syrup was being sampled, Charlie entered and told Josh that Sam was awake.

“How is he?”

“Well right now he’s eating a muffin and discussing the keynotes of the World Women’s Day speech with Mrs Bartlet.”

“Well then, he’s having almost as much fun as me.”

“Josh!” Bartlet’s admonishing tone did nothing to stop Josh’s grin as he apologised and then more sincerely thanked the president for the breakfast and relaxing start to the day. 

When he returned to the bedroom Sam was indeed deep in conversation with Mrs Bartlet and appeared to have eaten everything that had been laid out on a tray for him. 

Abbey turned as he entered the room offering an easy smile that let Josh know all was well. “Sam thinks I should beef up the comments about women’s advancement in the workplace.” 

“You should,” Josh agreed. Mrs Bartlet told Josh that Sam was fine to go home. Josh said he’d take him and then picked up the quilt he had tossed earlier on the end of the bed. 

“I’m surprised at you, Josh. I thought you had more respect for the White House.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “I do…I have…what haven’t I respected? Is the White House against the advancement of women?”

“No, but I think the curator would have something to say about you using a patchwork quilt made by the hands of Eleanor Roosevelt and which includes material from FDR’s Inauguration Day suit.”

Josh looked down at the pile of rumpled material in his arms. “Oh man. I mean, that’s an amazing piece of history. It should be in a museum or something not just dumped into that old chest.”

“You mean the 17th Century mahogany chest gifted to Abraham Lincoln from Napoleon the Third?”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded vigorously, “that one.”

Mrs Bartlet stared at Josh and shook her head in disappointment.

Helplessly he looked to Sam for support and found his friend clearly trying hard not to laugh.

“Wait a minute!” He looked back at Abbey who was now smiling, one eyebrow raised. “Is this a priceless piece of White House history or not?”

“Not.”

Josh threw the quilt back on the bed and sat down. “The President was telling me he’s invited Sam Marshall to dinner tonight.”

Abbey’s demeanour changed in an instant. She hated Sam Marshall and the effect he had on her husband. She muttered something very unladylike and left the room quickly.

Josh watched her leave and then lay back on the bed a satisfied smile on his face. Sam asked what he was going to do when she discovered Josh had lied about Marshall coming to dinner and Josh admitted he hadn’t thought that far ahead. After a while he sat up and took a moment to study Sam. “You look better than you did yesterday. How do you feel?”

Sam shuffled up the bed and rearranged the pillows so he could sit up, surprised at the effort it seemed to take. He folded his arms, unfolded them again and looked at Josh. “Tired, embarrassed, scared.”

“Well you’re in the best place to deal with feeling tired and there’s no way you should feel embarrassed, everyone who was there cares about you. Although I have to say I think that staff doctor enjoys needles way more than he should.” Sam subconsciously rubbed at his arm. “What are you scared of?”

Sam shrugged but then remembered he had promised Mrs Bartlet he would talk to Josh and he knew he was lucky to have a friend who had been through something similar. The doctor from the night before had visited Sam earlier that morning. He had told him what he thought had happened, what he had given him and that he needed to make an appointment with his own doctor today. “I’m scared of what happened yesterday happening again. I’m scared of remembering.”

Josh nodded. “Leo said we can get someone in. We can get Stanley. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t want to talk to Stanley. I’ll talk to you.” Sam hadn’t noticed that he was already sinking down the bed but when Josh suggested he get some more sleep, he realised just how exhausted he was. Josh left promising he would come and get him later and take him home. Then they would talk.

Josh went home and showered before returning to work where he found Toby sitting in his office. “How is he?” 

“He’s in the Residence why don’t you go find out for yourself?” Josh looked at Toby and saw the worry on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep too well.” He brushed a hand through his still wet hair and sat down at his desk. “He’s asleep. The doc saw him earlier. He says he wants to talk to me.”

“The doctor wants to talk to you?”

Josh shook his head. “No, Sam.”

Toby nodded slowly. “There may be another reason for Sam’s thing.”

Josh frowned and pointed out there were quite a few reasons already.

“Yeah, it just may be possible that I added to them.” At Josh’s encouraging nod he continued. “I thought Sam was out of his office. I was expressing my views in a forthright way-”

“You were yelling.”

“I was speaking in a raised voice that may have-”

“Sam, isn’t going to suffer a total breakdown every time he hears you shout.”

“He did when he had his decomposition.”

“Decompensation,” Josh corrected with a smile.

“Yeah and it’s possible I did it again. I was stressed, that noise was driving me crazy, I couldn’t hear myself think. I had a rant, I ranted, it ended with me shouting. If I’d known Sam was in his office…”

“What did you shout?”

“I shouted, ‘I’m trying to write here’.”

“So?” Toby waited for Josh to realise the impact those words might have had. “Oh!” 

“As soon as I said it, I remembered what I said to Sam that night before the... I remembered the look on Sam’s face when I said it.”

Josh frowned and then shook his head. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“Josh, I-”

“It doesn’t matter, Toby. We can deal with this. I know where Sam’s at, does it really matter how he got there?”

Toby considered Josh’s words and then frowned. “This is one of those rare moments when you actually make sense. I’m also feeling a little grateful to you so obviously I’m hoping that will pass soon.”

Josh nodded. “It’s a passing phase for most people,” he confirmed. 

Toby’s gentle smile at Josh’s comment disappeared when CJ entered the room and told Josh to turn on the TV. “It’s on DC Line. Sam Seaborn’s fight with staffers moments before he was nearly killed in a-”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got the angle they’re going with,” Toby interrupted her. 

They watched as a spokesman from the Brain Injury Association talked about the importance of feeling valued and welcomed at work.

“He is valued and welcomed!” Josh protested and was told to shush.

Pictures were shown of the wreckage of Sam’s car and footage of him being cut out. The picture was grainy and wobbly and obviously had been taken on a cell phone. A White House source was quoted describing the tension between Sam and Toby in the days leading up to the crash. The PR disaster of Sam’s meeting with Phillips was discussed as well as Toby Ziegler’s high-handed and often aggressive way of dealing with issues. 

“God, I hate that woman,” CJ said as Angel Marbel summed up her report. The implication of which was clear. The White House had some staffing issues which included a culture of aggressive management for those who went off message and a lack of care for employees returning to work. Sam Seaborn was on his way out before the accident and the White House had embraced the opportunity to use his illness to speed up his exit.

CJ reached over and switched the TV off. “This is worse. I mean this is really worse than the article I thought we were going to be dealing with.”

“It’s trash. There’s no evidence for any of it. There’s no source. Sam’s here. We’re taking care of him!” Josh walked away from the group and slammed his hand against the wall.

“You can’t do anything about it, Josh. None of us can. We’ll just have to wait for it to go away.” CJ walked over to Josh and waited for him to turn around. “In the meantime, Sam is here and we are looking after him and for me, that’s enough.”

Slowly the tension left Josh’s shoulders and he huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s enough for me too.”

Josh worked for a few hours and made the most of Sam sleeping until lunchtime. As soon as Mrs Bartlet called to tell him Sam was ready to go home, he finished what he was working on, made sure Donna had rearranged his afternoon and then went up to the Residence.

Nickleby dismissed Josh immediately and went straight to Sam. This was definitely a cat that had missed dinner and breakfast. Sam mumbled apologies and put down a bowl of biscuits. “Do you want coffee?” he asked Josh. “I think I’ll have tea.”

“Whatever comes,” Josh said easily as he picked up Sam’s mail and two newspapers.

“Where do you want to sit?” Sam asked suddenly feeling ill at ease in his own home. Josh took the tray of drinks from him and led the way to the living room. He sat on the sofa, grabbed the remote and put his feet up on the coffee table, keen to lessen the tense atmosphere. When it became clear Josh wasn’t going to start to talking, Sam relaxed and focused on the documentary about stunt men Josh had chosen.

“I could have been a stunt man.”

Sam sighed. “What, for ballet dancers?”

Josh frowned but rose above Sam’s jibe. “I’m just saying if fate had chosen a different path for me, I probably could have made a decent stunt man.” They both turned their attention back to the TV to footage of a stunt involving two burning cars and an eighty foot drop from a bridge. “I probably couldn’t have done that,” Josh conceded. “I’d have been more like the stunt men that fall off small buildings onto giant inflatable things.”

“If it’s going to be a choice between discussing your career as a stunt man or discussing what happened yesterday, I’ll go for the yesterday discussion.”

Josh briefly made a mental note to tell Toby later he had planned the whole stunt man conversation on purpose to get Sam talking. He turned to face his friend, nodded encouragingly and waited.

“I don’t know where to start,” Sam admitted. 

Josh scratched at his head. “Okay, let me think how Stanley started.”

“Oh God! Look let’s just…okay, I know, let’s go back to the decompensation or whatever the hell they call it.”

Josh nodded. “Good, that’s good.”

“Did you work it out?”

Josh frowned at the question.

“What happened. Why it started?”

“Ah that. Yes, I did, I did work it out.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I didn’t. I was getting close though but then someone else worked it out.”

“Who?”

“Toby.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up again. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Toby worked it out?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that’s…surprising.”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“I think we realised later that you probably weren’t ready to come back to work.”

“I have to say, I’m glad I’m not paying for this therapy session.”

Josh sent a hurt look Sam’s way and continued. “Toby thinks it was because he was shouting. He thinks that you heard that and it reminded you of what happened before the crash. He thinks the same thing happened yesterday.”

“I think he’s right. I don’t mean…it’s not that simple. I didn’t hear Toby shout and think, ‘wow, this is like the time he shouted at me before I nearly died’. I mean, shouting is Toby’s default setting. It’s not like I’m not used to it. I think what happened was the part of that night that I couldn’t remember, the part that was making me have all these negative feelings about it kind of came back to me.”

“You remembered what Toby said?”

“No, that’s what I’m trying to- It’s not like I remembered the words it’s more like I remembered how I felt but still couldn’t work out why. Do you want another coffee?”

The sudden change of tack surprised Josh but he nodded, knowing Sam wasn’t avoiding the conversation, he was controlling it.

“I found these in the cupboard.” Sam placed a plate of his mom’s homemade double triple chocolate muffins on the sofa. 

Josh’s expression and haste to take one showed that Claire’s speciality muffin was well known to him. “When did you work it out?” he asked with a bigger mouthful of muffin than was polite.

“It was yesterday. Toby was shouting yesterday and he said something about trying to write and the whole slanging match came back to me, word for word.”

“It was more than that though. You weren’t remembering; you were reliving it. It was happening again wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Josh repeated, thinking of his own terrifying experiences of PTSD.

They sat in silence, finished their muffins and wondered what to say next. Josh broke the silence by telling Sam about his reaction to the noise of the machinery and how it had affected Toby as well. He explained how they had worked out that it might have had the same effect on Sam. It was important to Josh that Sam knew he had been looking for him, that he hadn’t wanted him to be alone.

“I know that, Josh. It goes without saying. You’ve been, well, I’d have to sit and write something about what you’ve been to me through this.”

“I’d frame it.”

“You’d publish it,” Sam said.

Josh laughed. “Right, like the egomaniac you like to think I am!”

Sam smiled and relaxed further back into the sofa. “I hadn’t even thought about that noise the machine was making but I guess that was part of it.”

“The machine, Toby-”

“Toby,” Sam said with a sigh. “It’s his fault.”

Josh sat upright. “The crash?”

“What he said that night, how he’d been with me for weeks.” Sam rubbed at his forehead and then his neck trying to rid himself of the inevitable headache. “I got into my car angry, I was so mad at him. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt. Why? I always… I was too angry, I just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.”

“Jesus, Sam, Toby isn’t to blame for this. Okay, no, I can’t tell you that. No matter how angry you are with him it won’t be as much as he is with himself. We’ve spent the last few months trying to make him see sense.” Josh stood and paced a little before continuing. “You need to talk to him. You can’t go on like this. You didn’t understand what had happened. I get that, I get the jumbled words and feelings thing. But you can’t-” He moved to sit beside Sam. “Toby had the canopy removed at Rosslyn. It’s his fault I got shot.”

“Fuck you, Josh, you don’t think that.”

“I did, for a time.” Sam softened a little at Josh’s confession. “Toby ordered the canopy down. He didn’t put out the lone wolf call. He got you so angry you couldn’t think straight. He didn’t get Daniel Kelley so drunk that he slammed his car into yours.”

“I know that! I’m a smart guy, Josh, I know Toby didn’t make this happen or want this to happen, I just, I wish he hadn’t said those things. I don’t why he felt that way that night, why he’d think so little of me.”

“You need to talk to him.”

Sam didn’t respond so Josh pushed him until he reluctantly agreed. It was an hour before Sam’s appointment with his doctor. He knew he’d be seeing Stanley or someone else who could be spirited into the White House at some point in the next few days as well. He suddenly felt exhausted and the headache had finally arrived in pounding style. He closed his eyes.

“Do you have any food?” Josh asked and Sam shrugged. After searching fridge and cupboards, Josh managed to make lunch. They ate in silence but there was an atmosphere of peace in the room. It was shattered by the sound of Josh’s phone ringing and CJ’s urgent request for him to switch on the TV.


	30. 30

There was no heads-up, no discussion with the Press Secretary, Claire Seaborn had simply decided to take up Sally Gant’s invitation to appear on her afternoon show. Sam’s mouth wobbled helplessly, unable to find the words to express his mortification on seeing his mom live on national television.

In his office, Leo was producing a similar wordless performance. Finally, he found some words. “What the hell is she doing?” 

The President appeared, hands in pockets and stared at the screen. “She looks good.”

“Looks good! What the hell is she doing?”

“Well, I’m not a communications expert but it looks to me as if she’s doing our job for us.”

“What the hell is she doing?” Leo repeated but quieter this time. He walked over to Bartlet and stared intently at the television.

“Is it over?” Sam asked from behind a cushion.

“No!” Josh laughed.

“Oh man, this is like your mom coming to your prom or something.”

The only person who seemed unfazed by Claire’s appearance on one of America’s most popular chat shows was the person who should have been most traumatised by it. CJ sat back and put her legs on her desk. Toby glanced at her from the sofa. “You’re not, what, are you not going to scream or something?”

“Toby, Toby, Toby. You are about to watch an articulate, extremely bright and media savvy mother defend her son.”

Toby’s demeanour changed and he relaxed back in his chair. “Mrs Seaborn, I hope you can spin as well as your son can.”

Gradually, Sam peered from behind the cushion. Josh’s encouraging exclamations and the way Claire seemed to be in control of the conversation made him realise this wasn’t quite as bad as he thought. 

“Sally, can I call you Sally?” Sally Grant nodded wondering when her next chance to speak would come. “Sally, I can only tell you what I’ve witnessed. From day one President Bartlet’s administration has done nothing but act sensitively and appropriately towards Sam. In fact, only last night Mrs Bartlet extended a personal invitation to Sam to spend the night at the Residence while the plumbing in his apartment was being fixed.”

“God, she’s good. She’s even killing stories before they start,” Toby muttered.

“The reason I am so pleased to be able to come onto your show is that it gives me an opportunity to publicly thank the President and all of Sam’s colleagues at the White House. Not forgetting the amazing doctors and nurses who looked after him too. I know they were particularly considerate about visiting hours when it came to Sam’s closest colleagues such as Josh Lyman and Toby Ziegler.” 

“You’ve mentioned Sam’s colleagues, yesterday there were some reports about the difficulties Sam faced before the-”

“I’m so glad you mentioned that, Sally. I did see those reports and that’s exactly why I would like to take this opportunity to invite a representative from the Brain Injury Association to meet with me to discuss the problems faced by some brain injury sufferers on their return to work. Sam has been lucky, his return has been well managed and any difficulties he experienced as a result of the injury have been excellently catered for. I know the White House has worked closely with Sam’s doctors to achieve this. I do wonder about those who are not so lucky though. Maybe the Brain Injury Association would welcome the opportunity to highlight this problem and use some of the excellent work at the White House as a foundation for ensuring all people returning to work after a brain injury are treated as well as Sam has been.”

Sally Grant bared her whitened teeth at the camera, thanked Claire Seaborn and cut to a commercial break.

“Leo,” Bartlet said, “can we hire Sam’s mom?”

Leo just smiled and shook his head. “She’s quite a gal.”

In CJ’s office, Toby was laughing. CJ was enjoying the sound of it.

Josh was enjoying the sound of Sam leaving a slightly hysterical message on Claire’s cell phone. He waited until Sam placed his phone down and then grinned. “Aside from the understandable embarrassment of seeing your mom on Sally Grant’s show, you gotta admit she was kind of spectacular.”

Begrudgingly Sam smiled and admitted she was. Suddenly every phone in the apartment was ringing. Josh tried to listen to Toby but was having too much fun listening to Sam being berated by his Mom.

“Yes, Mom…I know that but it could have gone horr- No, you don’t work for the White House…yes…yeah…I’m just saying… Well that’s a little- No…yeah…okay…I got them from you, Mom…yeah…okay…love you, bye.”

“What did you get from your Mom?” Josh asked.

“My excellent skills in communication and writing, apparently.”

Josh nodded, the grin still playing at his lips. 

Sam stood and wavered slightly. “Did you want another curtain?”

Josh stopped smiling. “No, I’m good thanks.” Up until then, he could have believed there had never been anything wrong with Sam. He realised there was no point telling him he said curtain instead of coffee. Sam suddenly looked exhausted and Josh knew he had a headache. “Why don’t you go lie down?”

“Yeah, I think I will…there’s some erm…if you need...to eat, there’s some…erm…you know…in the fridge.”

“Yeah. Go lie down, Sam.”

Josh woke Sam and took him to see his doctor who was, as always, enthusiastic about Sam’s continued recovery. Josh queried if developing PTSD was an encouraging sign but was assured that the events of the day before were in themselves a good sign that Sam was coming to terms with what had happened to him. 

When they were making their way to his car, Josh asked Sam what he thought but Sam admitted that he hadn’t really been listening. Since he had woken, Josh had thought Sam seemed detached from what was happening. He put it down to fatigue and the PTSD episode catching up with him and focused on drawing Sam out of himself. His attempts failed. Sam slept when they returned to his apartment, ate a small amount of what Josh had ordered in for dinner and then went straight back to bed.

Claire arrived late in the evening and Josh appreciated the opportunity to talk to her about what had been happening and to hear about what Sally Grant had said after the interview. Claire told him how Toby and Leo had called and congratulated her and how the BIA had already contacted CJ to discuss the comments Claire had made. It was likely they were going to take her up on her offer.

“Tell me again what Sam’s doctor said,” Claire said.

“He’s pleased with Sam’s progress and thinks the PTSD is a good sign. He doesn’t think the headaches are going to go anytime soon and he thinks Sam should continue with his schedule at work. He was pretty fed up with the BIA’s comments and thought they were doing more damage than good. You’ve almost got yourself as many fans as Sam has in the medical community.” 

Claire allowed a small satisfied smile to flit across her face. “What do you think? Should Sam continue at work?”

“He’s writing more than he was. It’s pretty low-key stuff so it’s not like what he’s producing isn’t being used. He knows when he’s had enough. He not really pushing himself but I guess that’s good.”

Claire shook her head. “I don’t know, Josh. Sam’s been so far from normal for so long now that I don’t know if some of his behaviour is good or bad.” 

When it became clear that Sam wasn’t going to wake again, Josh started to leave but not before making sure Claire understood that Sam should come into work if he wanted to and shouldn’t be encouraged to if he didn’t.

Claire met Leo for breakfast after Sam had got up and left for work as if nothing had happened. 

“You’ll need to keep an eye on him.”

“I will.”

“He needs to see someone. Josh mentioned someone called Stanley.”

“It’s in hand.”

“He’s nowhere near ready to talk to Toby but he’s working with him every day.”

“Do you want some more coffee?”

“And his headaches are getting worse…probably another encouraging sign according to Dr Graham.”

“These eggs are good. Have you had some of these eggs?”

“Leo!”

“Claire, everything is fine. The sun is shining, the eggs are great, the State of the Union is done bar the spellcheck and Sam is doing just fine. So, sit back, enjoy your breakfast and let me finish the crossword, drink my coffee and think about you on the Sally Grant Show for a while, ok?”

“Well…ok.”

If Toby had heard Leo’s comment about the State of the Union he would have happily strangled him. He had been working on it for months now and even though Sam had helped on some parts his input wasn’t even slightly close to what Toby needed. He needed Sam back, the same as he had been, arguing with and inspiring Toby in equal measure. Normally Sam and Toby would put the speech away over Christmas but this year Toby had spent most of the holiday working on it. He realised he valued his writing partnership with Sam in more ways than he could ever have known. Leo was right about the spellcheck though. Sam asked in mock seriousness if the President should declare that across this country, people are striking for improvement.

“That should probably be striving,” he pointed out looking at the teleprompter over Josh’s shoulder as Bartlet rehearsed in front of them.

The President was happy to see Sam involved with the process. He had missed his input as much as Toby. “Well hold on there, Sam, we shouldn’t dismiss the notion out of hand. Strikes aren’t what they used to be. In 1806 the Philadelphia shoemakers' strike turned what was a-”

“Mr President!” Toby interrupted. He pointed at the copy of the address in his hand. “Please!” Bartlet peered over his glasses at Sam and promised they would finish the conversation later. 

Leo, as promised, kept an eye on Sam. He also made a point of meeting with Toby to discuss how he was a feeling. A subject that made both men feel awkward in a conversation in which they managed not to use the word ‘feeling’. Despite this, Leo concluded that Toby was not feeling too good about the situation. He was feeling even less good about the upcoming State of the Union which was only a couple of weeks away. Leo had seen the drafts. He knew all the main issues they wanted covered were in it. He knew they had gone a long way to satisfying many of the groups who had contributed to the process. He knew the President was comfortable with its contents and its tone. Everyone knew though that this State of the Union would not equal its predecessors in terms of oratory. “It doesn’t sing,” Bartlet had confided to his friend. 

Leo sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes. “What a mess!” he declared to his empty office. He picked up the latest draft of the address and settled down to read it once more. 

Sam never got to talk to Bartlet about the Philadelphia shoemakers' strike. He worked on a few statements and a report for Josh and then finally gave in to the headache that had been building all morning. Not wanting to disturb CJ he went down to Ainsley’s old office. He told Ginger where he was going and asked her to come and find him in a couple of hours if he didn’t come back. The sofa was still there and the hum of the steam pipes soon lulled him to sleep. 

Ginger arrived two hours later waking him gently and handing him a coffee and a sandwich. She sat with him while he ate and ate her own salad that she had brought down with her. They talked about the problems she was having with her car which Sam knew little about and her worries about her new kitten which Sam knew all about. They stayed there longer than Ginger would usually take for lunch and both were reluctant to leave. They only did so when Ginger pointed out that no one would know where Sam or she were. Sam liked the sound of that but agreed they should probably go back upstairs.

Sam went into his office as surreptitiously as possible. He glanced at the window between his and Toby’s office. What he saw made him pause. Toby was sitting at his desk, piles of books and papers surrounding him. His head was in his hands and he looked exhausted. Sam stepped back towards his door and hesitated. He wanted to go to Toby. Help him. At the very least make him feel more positive about his writing. 

Do I have use for a Deputy who seems to spend as much time in the papers communicating the wrong message as he does in his office trying to write the right one?”

Sam closed the door and walked back to his desk.


	31. 31

It had snowed during the night. Claire had boarded her plane just before the first flakes had started to fall. The wind was biting and Toby pulled his collar up further as he trudged towards the entrance to the West Wing. He hadn’t bought a coffee on the way in, knowing that holding his bag, a cup and staying upright would prove impossible. He saw Josh at the desk, signing in and stamping his feet to get some circulation back to what felt like two lumps of ice. He waited for the pen and then signed his own name before following Josh up the stairs. 

“How you doing?” Josh asked.

“Good.”

“It’s a great State of the Union, Toby. Politically, it’s one of our best.”

“Yeah, politically.”

Josh gave up and changed the subject. Toby half listened to him moan about a lobbyist, his mind on the address and Sam and guilt and his increasing lack of talent.

“What?” Toby suddenly realised Josh had asked him a question.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you later.”

Once in his office, Toby carried on where he had left off the night before. He had been working for forty minutes when he heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Is there anything I can do?” Sam asked from the doorway. 

Toby called for Ginger and handed her a note before replying. “No, it’s done.”

“Toby, it’s never done until seconds before it’s handed to the President.

Toby nodded at the truth of that. “You can call Benson, he’s making some noise about the Clean Air proposal.”

“Okay, write down what you want me to get from him.”

Toby grabbed a slip of paper, jotted a few lines and handed it over. “No deals.”

“Yeah, I can see that from where you’ve written ‘no deals’ in capitals and underlined it.”

“Okay, good. You go do that then.”

Toby pretended he needed something from the Bullpen and then stood outside of Sam’s office and listened. Sam didn’t have the finer points of the debate down and he didn’t have the passion he once had but he turned Benson around and gained assurances that the other members of his committee would follow his lead. Toby rested his head against the wall and sighed. “No deals,” Sam confirmed as he came out of the room making Toby jump. 

“I was just…watching…the…I was just…”

“I know what you were doing. I could see your feet.”

From that moment a sudden flurry of activity began that didn’t stop until the President stood up to the podium. Phones started ringing, the speechwriting team were making frantic calls to finalise or confirm details, copies were being bound and sent to the appropriate people to a strict timetable and Charlie was making constant trips between Toby and the Oval office. Sam sat at his desk and watched the motion. Amazed that when he had been involved in it, he had been able to keep up and not go spinning away in the whirlwind. 

By the time Josh came to get him he had closed his blinds, shut his door and told Bonnie not to put any calls through.

“You ready?” Josh came into Sam’s darkened office, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t go.”

“What’s up?”

“That,” Sam pointed towards the Bullpen, “I can’t cope with that. Also, I can’t handle the thought of all those people and more noise and then there’s the-”

“Okay, okay!” Josh waved his hands in the air. “I get it. And I have to tell you in my capacity as your unofficial medical advisor this is excellent news.”

“Is there no one in the medical community who thinks my illness and on-going symptoms suck just a little?”

“You know what you’ve done here? You’ve identified your limitations and acted on them.”

“If you mention levels or stages, I swear to God, Josh, I will kick your ass out of this office.”

“And you see, right there, you felt your emotions becoming out of control but were able to behave within socially acceptable norms.”

“That’s great. I’m very happy for you and Doctor Graham.” He sighed then and rubbed at his forehead. 

Josh walked to his chair and crouched down. “It is great,” he said earnestly. Now that he was closer to Sam he could see that his hands were shaking and noticed how pale he was. “You want to get out of here?”

Sam nodded and allowed Josh to guide him out of his office, through the Bullpen and down some stairs. He was surprised to find that he was being taken to Ainsley’s old office. He was even more surprised when he entered it. A blanket lay on one end of the sofa and a lamp had been placed at the other end. A pile of books was on the floor, crime and spy stories. An alarm clock and a telephone were on the desk and a basket of snacks and a few bottles of water stood next to them. Alongside those was a smaller basket containing a pack of the painkillers Sam was taking as well as a packet of headache strips. Sam smiled in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I hate to break it to you, buddy, but your secret hideaway isn’t all that secret. You told Ginger about it. I know you’ve got a brain injury but, man, when did a secret ever have any meaning to our assistants?”

“The assistants did this?”

Josh nodded. “I suggested the books.”

Sam felt moisture in his eyes but was too moved by what had been done for him to worry about his current failure to control his emotions. “This is like the den I never had when I was kid.”

“Yeah, but there’s no porn.”

Sam smiled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Okay, so I should probably lie down and put this to the test.”

Josh watched as Sam lay on the sofa and then he unfolded the blanket and lay it over him. He picked up the alarm clock and asked Sam what time he wanted it setting for. He switched on the lamp and switched off the light. “I’ll see you when we get back?”

Sam mumbled something and turned into the warmth of the blanket. Josh closed the door. Sam hadn’t seen the sign that had been hung on it: ‘Steam Pipe Testing in Place. DO NOT ENTER’. 

When the alarm went off, Sam groped for where his alarm was at home, realised he wasn’t at home and sat up to reach the table where the alarm was placed. He got back to his office at the same time as Toby was returning from the Hill. Sam couldn’t read his mood but applause broke out in the Bullpen, as Toby entered. Sam stood in the doorframe and asked him how it had gone. 

“It’s over. It was…acceptable.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, “Acceptable? They’re applauding out there, Toby. Anyway, since when did you settle for acceptable?”

“Since you were in hospital.” The answer surprised Toby as much as it did Sam.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d…”

“Maybe if I’d what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, maybe if I’d what?”

Sam went into to his office. Toby followed. “You think perhaps we should talk about the ‘maybe if’?”

“Not now!” Sam took a step backwards. Toby mirrored his action in an attempt to pacify him. 

“Okay, so now’s not good. How about later? Tonight? We could talk later tonight, if you want to.”

Sam closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “We will talk but not tonight.” He sighed and then looked up at Toby. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Okay.” Toby took a further step back towards the door. “Okay, you just tell me when, because I’m ready.” 

Sam nodded in reply and held Toby’s stare who nodded in return before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

Sam stayed at work for the rest of the afternoon but left before the staff congregated to celebrate what was beginning to be viewed as a very successful address. Toby took Josh aside and told him of his conversation with Sam. They went to his office and drank bourbon together until CJ came to find them. Sam had gone home with the intention of sleeping but found himself going through speeches he and Toby had written. He fell asleep on the sofa, a pile of papers next to him and scattered on the floor. Nickleby was enjoying this new lapse in tidiness which seemed to guarantee him of a pile of papers to lie on at regular intervals.

Sam was ready to talk sooner than Toby had thought he would be. CJ, Josh, Toby and Sam had all come in on a Saturday. Sam admitted he had mainly come to use the gym. There was another reason though; he enjoyed the quieter and less stressful atmosphere of the West Wing at the weekend. CJ went to get some sandwiches and they met up in her room to eat. Sam said little during lunch but at the end as they were all preparing to start work again he asked Toby if he had a minute. They returned to his office leaving CJ and Josh exchanging raised eyebrows. 

“I was thinking tonight would be good, if you want to I mean. If you’re not busy or anything.”

“Tonight’s fine, Sam,” Toby said, trying to ignore the way he could suddenly feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Okay. Well, do you want to come to my place, around eight?”

“Yeah.” No, there’s actually nothing I’d rather do less. “Eight’s fine.”

“Well, okay then. I’ll see you later.”

Sam had gone home then leaving a very agitated Toby behind. 

Two hours later CJ and Josh decided they had discussed and role-played every conceivable scenario for the evening. Josh promised he would wait for Toby’s call when he left Sam’s and then go straight round. CJ promised she would wait for Toby’s call and go wherever he needed her to if he wanted to meet up. Toby didn’t express his thanks for the comfort and strength that his friends had provided for him. He told Josh not to hang around, reminding him that if it went badly Sam would need him straight away. He told CJ the ‘where’ would probably be the nearest bar.


	32. 32

Sam had made an effort to tidy his apartment. He had spent the afternoon piling up papers and putting them back into boxes, sorting laundry and removing the evidence of just how many pizzas he and Josh had eaten over the past few days. By early evening he had nothing to do but think about what he was going to say to Toby. He picked up a legal pad and a pen and started to write. He had scraps of paper with notes and jottings he had made ever since he had decided he was ready to talk and he had formed all of his scattered thoughts into a list of questions.

By the time Toby arrived, Sam had condensed his list and narrowed it down to eight questions he wanted to ask and five points he wanted to make. Toby didn’t have a list of questions. He arrived with a bottle and a pot plant. He had no idea what had possessed him to buy the pot-bound fern but Sam took it from him and spent some time trying to find a suitable spot. A small table by the window was its final destination and both men stood back to look at it in what became an uncomfortable silence. The silence was broken when Toby’s gaze fell to the model that stood on the shelf above the plant.

“You finished it,” Toby said of the model boat he had bought Sam when he was in the rehabilitation centre.

“It took me longer than the others. I finished it once I was back home.”

“Where are the others?” Toby couldn’t help feeling a little proud that it was one of the models he had given him that Sam had chosen to display.

“They’re around, one’s in my bedroom I think. I kept them all.”

Toby put his hands in his pockets and gestured to the table where he had placed the bottle. Sam shook his head. “I was going to make a coffee. You want one?” Toby nodded, he had a feeling one way or another this night would end with him drinking alcohol. He just wasn’t sure if it would be with Sam or CJ. He wandered around the living room as he waited. He caught sight of the book Josh had made and started flicking through the pages. He heard the door swing open and waited until Sam had placed the drinks on the table. “This is thoughtful. Who made it?”

“Josh.”

“It was a thoughtful thing to do.” Another silence followed. Toby knew they weren’t going to get very far if their conversations consisted of three or four sentences. He moved towards the sofa and bent down to pick up his coffee. Sam told him to sit and moved to sit in the chair opposite him. 

“Where do we start?” Toby asked.

Sam remembered his list of questions and pulled them from his pocket. “I wrote down some things that I wanted to ask you.” Toby nodded and waited.

“When I was in the car, after the crash I mean, I think I heard you shouting. Josh told me you were shouting at the other driver but I wanted to know…I wanted you to tell me what happened.”

Toby took a sip of his coffee and then placed his cup down. He purposefully leaned forwards closing the gap between them. “Josh got to you before I did. I think the shock of seeing you...I didn’t know what to do. Then, I saw Daniel Kelly sitting in his truck with this surprised look on his face. I went over to him. I think I was planning on asking him to move his truck back. God knows what I thinking. I went over to him and I could smell alcohol. I can’t help you much, Sam. I don’t really remember what happened after that. I know CJ said I was magnificent.” Both men smiled. “I dragged him out and I remember the sound of his head hitting the truck as I slammed him back. I remember thinking that was a pleasing sound. Two guys pulled me off him. I wanted to hurt him; I remember that much. It was only the sound of CJ calling my name that pulled me out of it.”

“I thought you were in the car with me. Not now but at first I thought I remembered you shouting in the car.” Sam had forgotten that he had also believed Toby had been driving the other car. He looked back at his piece of paper but Toby reached out and took it from him.

“Why don’t I just tell you what happened and then, when I’ve finished, you can ask me anything I haven’t answered for you?”

Sam agreed but told Toby to wait while he went to fetch two glasses. He poured two large drinks and then sat back down and tried to make himself at least look relaxed. Toby downed a third of his and began. It was his turn to ask a question. “What do you remember about the day of the crash?”

Sam frowned and thought for a while before answering. “You were pissed with me. I remember that. There was a thing with Phillips. Did that ever come to anything?”

Toby shook his head. “No, you nearly dying kind of claimed the news cycle for a while.”

“Well, there you go.” Another pause and Sam collected his thoughts once more. “You said I was naïve and stumbled from one PR disaster to the next one. Something like that. Man, you were pissed. I think there was something about me taking the divine highroad. Some of that day’s quite clear still. My mom called and said you were a bully, also, I think she may have made some derogatory comments about your speech for the California Small Business rally. Darren called and we went to a bar.”

“That was a good speech.”

“Apparently not if you own a small business in California.”

Toby took another long drink and continued. “I was pissed. If I’d have known then how that day was going to end…” Sam looked at Toby and waited. He didn’t think he’d answered many of his questions so far. “I want you to understand that there was a lot of misdirected anger going on. Long before the Phillips thing I was angry. Do you remember any of that?”

Sam frowned and rubbed at his head. “I don’t remember much about the weeks before the accident. I just know that for a long time any memories I had of working with you were less than good.” He stood then and looked around the room before returning his gaze to Toby. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to…I have to try and remember…I’m going to make some more coffee.” With that he left Toby and returned to the kitchen. A few moments later he came out and picked up the empty cups a fierce look of concentration on his face. 

Toby could hear the sound of water being poured, canisters opened and cups being washed. He felt something brush against his leg and looked down to find Nickleby sitting by his feet. Toby had read somewhere that cats are attracted to people who don’t like cats because they tend not to look at them and cats see direct eye contact at threatening. Nickleby had obviously not read this chapter in his cat manual. He stared at Toby for some time. Toby swore he saw his head nod to one side as if sizing him up. Toby broke the stare confirming Nickleby’s dominance. The cat jumped up on the sofa and then gracefully leapt onto the back of it. He walked towards Toby’s head, sniffed his hair, licked his ear and then disappeared down off the sofa and into the kitchen. Toby didn’t know what that meant but was pretty sure it was some sort of acceptance. He was pondering if his ears had an alluring scent for cats when Sam returned. He looked more collected but Toby knew a conversation as long and as deep as this was likely to be was going to be hard on him. 

“I was working for both of us. You were struggling. I remember that you hadn’t really admitted it but it was obvious so I was covering for you. We had that speech for the…erm…media, something to do with media.”

“The sports coverage thing?”

“Yeah, that and the...what I’m saying is we had a lot of stuff on. I think it was around then that I started to struggle. You were okay but then I wasn’t and you didn’t help me.”

Toby’s head shot up at that. Sam was right of course, he hadn’t. He was taken aback by how much Sam could remember. A part of him had hoped it was just the night of the crash that was bothering Sam but now he knew that they needed to go deeper into this if they were to get anywhere. He also knew that for the second time he had to talk candidly about his feelings. He reached for his drink and drained the glass. “Shall we sit on your balcony?” He needed a moment to get his thoughts together. They moved their cups and glasses outside and settled into the two plastic chairs. The view wasn’t amazing but on a clear day you could see the cathedral. Toby took a deep breath and started. He told Sam more or less what he had told CJ and Josh. When he had finished Sam didn’t say a word. He stood up. 

“More coffee making?” Toby asked.

Sam nodded and his self-conscious shrug made them both smile. Again Toby waited but this time not anxiously. He moved back indoors and onto the sofa. He had said how he felt and although the hardest part of the conversation was coming, at least he felt able to deal with it. Nickleby jumped onto Toby’s lap. Sam returned to the room to find Toby sitting with his arms hanging in the air. “This happened while you were in there,” Toby explained helplessly.

“Yeah, he does that. It’s a cat thing. You know, you could stroke him if you want to.”

“Well let’s just take this one step at a time.”

Sam smiled as he placed the coffee on the table making sure Toby would be able to reach around his new friend who was now purring contentedly. Sam picked up his notes. “You’ve actually answered quite a few of these.” He put it down and rubbed once more at his head, screwing his hands into his eyeballs.

“Does your head hurt?”

“No more than usual,” Sam sighed resignedly. “I was thinking when I was making coffee, I was thinking about what you said and I can remember most of it. I mean I can remember covering for you. I knew there was something else going on with you but I think I was too tired to want to get into it.” Sam stared at the carpet; the frown had returned. “I’m sorry what did you say about when you got your swing back?”

“I said I knew you’d lost yours but I didn’t-”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam held up his hand. “How much bourbon have I had?”

“One glass.”

“Okay.” He refilled their glasses and then pushed the bottle towards Toby. He took a sip and then sat forward, arms on his knees and the glass held tightly in his hands. “I want you to know I’m grateful that you said all that.” He released his tight hold of the glass and swirled the drink around. “I think it’s your fault.” Toby tensed and Nickleby, sensing the sudden change of mood, jumped off his lap. “That was harsh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I kept getting these flashbacks or something…I don’t know when they started…I think I had these pictures and sounds and I…but it’s not why I couldn’t…when I thought of you I had these pictures and sounds and…I couldn’t remember what it was like when we were…erm…when we…I thought you were shouting at me and then…I kept thinking I…I didn’t…oh, fuck it!” He jumped up and kicked the table. The cups and glasses shuddered across it slurping liquid onto its surface. The coffee formed a pool of liquid which then ran to the edge of the table and dripped onto the carpet.

Just stay with it. If he blows up then go with it. He’ll come back down if you wait it out. Toby heard Josh’s words and pretended an air of calm he did not feel. He went to the kitchen to get a cloth and started wiping up the mess. Sam was standing, hands on hips, at the other end of the room. Don’t say anything if he gets emotional. I mean don’t react if he’s crying. He can’t control his emotions and it doesn’t help when it’s pointed out to him. Toby wiped the last of the liquid from the table and took the cloth back to the kitchen. Don’t call him on using the wrong word. Man, he doesn’t react well to that. 

When he returned to the living room Sam was once more sitting on the sofa and looking more composed. He apologised to Toby and suggested they have something to eat. He explained that he couldn’t cope with the conversation anymore but maybe a break would help. Toby agreed, relieved that Sam wanted to continue at all. Now that it was happening, he couldn’t face the thought of stopping and starting again another day. 

Toby followed him into the kitchen and watched as Sam pulled a bag of fresh pasta from the refrigerator and started to make a quick sauce to go with it. “When did this start?” Toby asked waving his hand at the chopping board and range of ingredients.

“Start again you mean. I’ve always liked cooking. I stopped when I worked at Gage. There was a hotdog stand outside the office,” Sam said as if this was explanation enough.

“Andi never let me cook.”

“Did you ever offer?”

“No, but I think it was clear that I would be willing to if the need arose.”

Sam smiled and shook his head. “You could have pre-empted the need and just made Andi a nice dinner.” Toby nodded thoughtfully. “Distribution of tasks can strengthen a relationship.”

“Did you ever cook for Lisa?”

“No,” Sam admitted. “I bought her a hotdog once though.”

The pasta was as good as it looked. They ate in the kitchen and then Sam served some ice-cream that was left over from Claire’s last visit. They both frowned when they saw that it was low fat. They returned to the living room and Sam asked how long it had been since his last drink. He decided he was safe to have another glass but didn’t object when Toby poured smaller measures than Sam. He then asked Toby to go over the last thing they had been talking about waving his hand to stop Toby when he had remembered what he had been saying. 

“What I was trying to say earlier was this; I blamed you for the crash and a part of me still does. You were always there, in my mind, but never a full picture, never a real memory. I couldn’t remember what you were like, what we were like. Do you understand?” Toby nodded. “I tried really hard to remember but every time I did there was just this overwhelming sense of dread. Anger, I felt angry too. I was having enough trouble making sense of the things I could remember without dealing with this man that I couldn’t remember and made me feel anxious and infuriated.” Sam stopped talking and leaned back into the sofa. “Does that make science?” he asked.

Toby ignored the urge to correct Sam. “It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. To have all that going on whenever you saw me must have been, well, I don’t really know what it must have been like but I can imagine it sucked.”

“Yes! Thank you! It sucked! And, I have to say how refreshing it is to hear my recovery described as anything other than extraordinary!” 

“Yeah, well, I was always pretty much in the ‘sucked’ camp,” Toby said. 

He watched as Sam flattened out his list on the table and looked once more at his notes. He suddenly picked it up, scrunched it into a ball, muttered something about not needing it and threw it in a perfect arc into the trash can. “I remembered what you said that night.” He looked up at Toby who just nodded and made a point of holding his gaze. “When you were shouting the other day at work when I…you know, I remembered it. It wasn’t clear but gradually it came back to me. I was relieved at first; it made sense of all the feelings and whatever. It didn’t make them go away. I’ve tried to stop…the thing is,” Sam stood and walked over to the window, “The thing is no matter how I try to rationalise it the fact remains that if-” He was shaking. Toby could see the sudden shift in mood but made no effort to calm Sam. He’d been waiting too long to hear this. “Why did you say that stuff?”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just venting my-”

“Don’t tell me this is about your writing or my meeting with Phillips or any of that crap! You said it because you meant it.” Sam returned to the sofa but didn’t sit down.

Toby stood. “I didn’t believe any of those things I said. I was frustrated and I was pissed about Phillips. I told you, I tried to explain where I was then.”

“No! I mean, okay I get that you were pissed and venting but why do it in front of Josh and CJ? You could have done it at work, in private, in a ‘make Sam feel like shit because I feel like shit’ meeting.”

“It wasn’t about making you feel-”

“But it did! It did make me feel like shit! It made me so mad that all I wanted to do was get as far away from you as I could get, as quickly as I could.”

“You should have stayed then. Why didn’t you stay? We could have talked, gone back in the bar.” 

“Back in the bar? Are you out of your fucking mind? I was thinking I might not want to work with you again. Actually, that was probably what I was thinking about when I should have been putting my seatbelt on!”

“You didn’t put your seatbelt on. What, you’re saying it’s my fault that you-”

Sam closed the gap between them, stumbling as he knocked into the table. “Yes. Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying. You,” he stabbed a finger into Toby’s chest, “you were the one who chose that moment to spew out your thoughts about having me as a deputy. You were the one who got me so upset I couldn’t think straight. It was you! It was your fault, it was your fault, it was your fault!”

The words seemed to reverberate in the silence that followed. The sound of harsh, rapid breathing followed. Toby placed his hands over Sam’s which were clenched and holding tightly onto the lapels of his jacket. Slowly, gently, he prised them open but he did not let go. He had not fought Sam when he started to shake him, each violent movement punctuated by his words. He wanted Sam to look at him, look him in the eyes like he had when he had been screaming in his face. Sam was lifeless now though, pliable in Toby’s hands. He guided him backwards until his legs hit the sofa causing him to crumple down onto it. He left Sam there, shaking, head in hands whilst he went to the kitchen. The taste of bourbon and coffee rose in his throat and he swallowed hard. The lid on the bottle of water would not come loose. Toby mumbled a curse and made an effort to still his shaking hands. He returned to find Sam in the same position. “Drink this,” he ordered and eventually one hand was peeled away from a pale face to take the water. 

Toby perched next to Sam and waited. He thought at least one of them should stop shaking before anything else was said. He waited. The bottle was placed down on the floor and the hand returned to its task of covering the face which was now wet. “Look at me.” Sam’s bangs fell forward over his hands as he shook his head. “Look at me.” The hands remained in place. 

Toby’s knees creaked as he knelt down and reached out to remove Sam’s hands. Sam immediately turned his face away, telling Toby to leave him alone. For the second time that evening Toby held Sam’s hands in his own. His were steady now. 

He felt his cellphone vibrate. “I don’t need to look at my phone to know this will be Josh. I told him I’d call when I was done here. He’s ready to come over if that’s what you want.” Sam’s silence was beginning to scare him. “Is that what you want?”

Sam closed his eyes and Toby could just make out his response. He quickly answered and told Josh everything was fine. He could hear Josh’s unbelieving reply as he ended the call. “Sam. I’m a little out of my depth and I could really do with you giving me some eye contact here.”

Slowly, Sam turned his head towards him. Toby made a quick assessment; pale, still shaking, red eyes, not focusing. Crap. He wished he’d ignored Sam now and told Josh to come. “What do you need? Is there, I don’t know, are there some pills you can have?” He was taken aback by Sam’s sudden hollow laughter.

“They don’t make pills for this,” he explained but Toby didn’t know what this was.

“I’m taking you to the ER.” His words had the desired effect. Sam tried to stand, protested he was fine and finally faced Toby. 

“I don’t need-”

“Okay, what do you need?” Sam shrugged helplessly, he didn’t know. “Lie down then. You look...just lie down. I’ll just sit here and, you know.”

Sam didn’t know but he knew his head felt as if it was about to burst, he knew the fact he couldn’t stop shaking wasn’t good and he knew if he tried to sleep the words that were still screaming in his head might disappear. He clumsily lifted his legs onto the sofa. Almost asleep he remembered something he did want. “Two of the blue ones, I can have the blue ones.” 

Toby went into the kitchen. Sam’s medication was neatly laid out with a list of instructions beside them. He checked the dosage and then looked in the box. Saturday’s compartment still contained two tablets. He took them and another glass of water back to Sam. Once Sam was asleep, he went into the kitchen and phoned Josh and CJ, told them they wouldn’t be needed, everything was fine, Sam was sleeping, he was going to stay. He returned to the chair opposite the sofa. He would stay, he would wait, because somehow amidst the shouting and aggression, somehow, he knew they were going to be okay.


	33. 33

Ainsley took a step closer to Sam and studied his nose. “Have you, at some point during this day eaten a doughnut?”

“No.”

“A cannoli?”

“No.”

“I, despite the guilt and regret that will no doubt ensue, have enjoyed a slice of apple pie.”

“Okay.”

“And, I may, at some point this afternoon, go to the Mess to procure a second slice.”

“Assuming you can rise above the guilt and regret?”

“Yes, and it is at this point that I would like, very much, to examine your nose as I think I saw some sugar upon it.”

“Ainsley, what the…” Ignoring Sam’s protests, Ainsley stood on her tip-toes and started her study. She peered at and then sniffed his nose. She then leaned even closer and started to lick it. Sam tried to push her away but she seemed determined in her task. Sam shouted her name out as she took her first bite. His eyes flew open, breathing fast he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was no longer on the set of Capital Beat but on his sofa. Nickleby was sitting on his chest. His attempt to wake Sam by licking his nose having succeeded he jumped down and led the way to his bowl. Sam stayed on the sofa until the images of Ainsley had melted away; glad at least that he was able to make sense of why she had been purring. At some point during the night, Toby had fetched two comforters for them. Toby’s lay neatly folded on the chair. Sam rose slowly, the remnants of last night’s headache causing him to moan. In the kitchen he found a note from Toby telling him he had gone to find food. Sam sighed and rubbed at his neck. A shower. A shower, coffee and two of whatever pills he was allowed when he had taken the blue ones less than nine hours ago.

By the time Toby returned, Sam had accomplished all of these tasks and was sitting in the living room reading the paper. He stood when Toby arrived, letting himself in with Sam’s keys. “I found food,” he announced as if he had gone into the woods and snared a rabbit. Sam nodded and followed him to the kitchen, watching as he poured orange juice and started to unpack. 

“You know it’s just us for breakfast, right?” Sam asked as a range of breakfast items were laid out on the table.

“I didn’t know what you’d like.” Toby shrugged self-consciously. 

Sam got some plates and cutlery and they sat down to eat, a task made more difficult than usual due to the great choice of items. Sam settled on a slice of melon and a muffin. Toby made a mini selection from most of the items. Sam gave Toby the sports section of his paper and they read and ate in silence. Neither could face the thought of more coffee after last night’s binge so Sam made some tea and they took it onto the balcony. “Thanks, Toby. That was like a hotel buffet, only better because there wasn’t any elbow barging.”

“What sort of hotels do you stay in?” Toby asked.

A police siren wailed in the distance. A jogger ran by, stopped to tie a shoelace and then continued. An open-top tour bus passed below, the guide’s lively chatter drifting up to them. Toby asked another question. “What do you remember, last night I mean, what do you remember?”

For a moment Sam was tempted to tell him that he couldn’t remember any of it. “We talked, we listened, I screamed, there was definite lapel shaking going on.” He looked sideways at Toby waiting for confirmation of his behaviour. If he could dream Ainsley had bitten his nose, he could dream he had been shaking Toby.

Toby fingered the edge of his jacket and nodded. “Do you remember what I said to you?”

Sam nodded but realised from the look on Toby’s face the gesture wasn’t enough. “You explained how you were feeling. You made a lot of things make sense.”

“Do you remember what you said to me, I mean specifically when you were trying to remove the lapels from my jacket?”

Sam looked away from Toby. The jogger was now passing on the other side of the street. Sam tried to think where he would have turned, what his circuit might be. “It’s your fault.” He quickly turned to Toby. “That’s what I said last night I mean. Not now, I’m not saying that now.”

“Aren’t you?” Toby tried to hide it but his tone was anxious.

“No. Not now, not then really. Well, I suppose then, yes.” He turned to Toby and rolled his eyes, “You know for two of the President’s speech writers we’re doing a pretty lame ass job of verbalising our thoughts.”

Toby nodded and agreed they were.

“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think the accident was your fault. I can’t blame you for me not using my seatbelt, I can’t blame you for me being where I was that night and I certainly can’t blame you for Kelly smashing his car into mine.”

Toby nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “What about the other stuff, how I treated you, what I said.”

“Oh, I still blame you for that,” Sam stated. “We can work on that though. You could start being nicer to me.”

“Maybe.”

“You could reward my insightful ideas and youthful approach.”

“Reward you?”

“I mean the odd cigar or bottle of something wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah.”

“We could work out some sort of points system. When you write something that sucks I get ten points, when I write something that doesn’t suck I get ten points.”

“When I write something that doesn’t suck?”

“I get five points.”

“That system seems skewed in your favour.”

“Already you’ve forgotten about the being nicer part.”

“Yeah, that’s one of my many reservations about this system.”

Sam nodded, his gaze fixed on a squirrel that was thinking about the transition from fence to tree. “I can see it has flaws,” he agreed. They sat and finished their tea then returned indoors. 

Neither man knew what to do or say. They had covered a lot of ground but there seemed to still be things to say. “Let’s go to Ford’s Theatre,” Sam suddenly announced. 

Toby was too taken aback by the request to do anything but agree. He agreed when Sam walked down the street and suggested they get on a tour bus and agreed when Sam paid for two all-day tickets. “Are we sightseeing?” Toby asked.

“Yeah, have you ever done the tourist thing? I mean we live here and we work here but have you ever actually done the tourist thing?” Toby said he hadn’t and Sam told him how Mallory had impressed on him the importance of it. 

“Is that because you demonstrated your complete lack of knowledge about anything to do with the history of White House?”

“That and the fact that she believes you can’t say you live somewhere until you have seen it through a tourist’s eyes. Also there remains a possibility that one day she may sleep with me so, you know…”

“It’s a lot smaller than you’d think,” was Sam’s assessment of Ford’s Theatre as he tucked into a hamburger. Toby agreed. He also agreed that being a tourist wasn’t as much fun as you’d think, especially when you’re stuck on a bus with an overzealous tour guide. Their tour had started and ended with the theatre and it was decided they’d get a cab back to Sam’s place. “We should probably buy something.”

“What you mean dessert or something?”

“No, I mean if we’re being tourists we should probably buy something, a t-shirt or something.”

“I thought we weren’t being tourists anymore.”

“True.” 

They had started eating inside but the music was loud, there was a light flickering above their table and next to them a mother sat trying to quieten a howling baby. Sam had stood, picked up his burger and left. Toby grabbed his, left a generous tip on the table and followed. Sam was sitting on a bench outside. Toby didn’t need to ask what had happened. Sam was fine now and Toby was heartened that he had been able to get himself away from the situation and calm down so quickly. 

“I’m beginning to regret leaving those fries behind,” Sam said as Toby wiped his fingers on a napkin.

“Yeah,” he balled the napkin and threw it into the trash can. “I think there might be some food back at yours.”

Sam smiled at Toby’s reference to his breakfast banquet. “We better head back there then. You know, you should call Josh and tell him to stop hyperventilating.”

“I did. He didn’t believe me when I told him everything’s okay.”

Sam laughed and Toby glanced at him. He wanted to see if the laughter was as real as it sounded. It was. Toby sighed deeply. “Come on, let’s get a cab.”

Josh, frustrated with not knowing what was happening and convinced Toby was lying to him, had gone into work. He had phoned Donna and very reluctantly she had agreed to come in so long as he bought her lunch and she left by two. 

“Okay, tell me again what Toby said,” Josh said.

“He said everything was fine, there was no need to worry and he and Sam were good.”

“There you go. He’s lying.”

“Josh!”

“Anything could have happened! Sam could have had one of his things and Toby wouldn’t know how to cope. Maybe Sam had one of his things and in his unresolved rage killed Toby!”

“Your call from Toby came via John Edward?”

“Good point. Well, maybe Sam had one of his things and Toby in his unresolved guilt and rage killed Sam! Sam hasn’t called me!”

“Buy me lunch. You promised you’d buy me lunch. You told me you had work to do and you would buy me lunch.”

“Okay. But you know who else I haven’t heard from, CJ. She could be in on it.”

“She’s in her office.”

“Is there a body shaped bundle wrapped in a blanket on her sofa?”

“No.”

“We can probably go for lunch then.”

Sam and Toby had settled at the kitchen table, picking at the breakfast items. “Do you need to lie down or something?” Toby asked having not spent a whole day with Sam for some time.

“I don’t need to be put down for a nap!” Sam replied indignantly. Sections of the paper were swapped. Toby sat tutting and muttering until Sam could take it no more and took it from him and gave him the sports section. 

Toby reached for his bottle of beer and on finding it empty, rose to get another. He leaned against the counter and looked at Sam. He was sitting back in his chair, his feet resting on the chair opposite. One hand held his beer and the other idly flicked the corner of the page he was reading. Toby coughed lightly and waited until he had his attention. “Those other things you blame me for, apart from the ridiculous points system that isn’t going to happen, is there anything I can do?”

Sam took a swig of his beer then placed the paper on the table. “It’s not rocket science, Toby. I mean all of our issues, every problem we have can be resolved by our ability to do one thing. It’s ironic really because you’re the one who came up with the soundbite for it.”

Toby’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head in confusion. “I don’t get it, what soundbite?” But then it came to him, suddenly, his own words hauntingly replayed to him. “Friends are honest with each other.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, almost in a whisper and with the same sense of disappointment those words always made him feel. 

“Huh.” Toby pulled the chair from the table with his foot and sat down heavily. “Yeah.” He rubbed at his face. Sam thought he was the one who looked like he could use a nap. “Yeah, they are and we weren’t.”

“No, we haven’t been for a long time.”

We’re going to be okay though?”

“I think we are.”

A more demonstrative man would have stood and given Sam a hug, at the very least shook his hand in both of his and held the gesture. Toby reached over the table, knocking a box of pop tarts over and clumsily patted Sam’s arm. The gesture was as warm and embracing as any hug the older man could have offered. Toby removed his hand and looked at the table. “I should clear this up. You should go lie down. I don’t care if you don’t need a naptime you look like you could use one.”

Sam had to agree he was exhausted, his glance in the hallway mirror earlier had confirmed he looked as washed-out as he felt. His head, mercifully pain free for most of the day had started to thump. Toby’s order to rest gave him the permission he needed to admit he was feeling the effects of the outlet of emotions he had experienced in the past few hours. He stood unsteadily and gratefully took the glass of water that was offered to him. The sudden, resounding banging on the door made Toby jump and Sam sky-rocket upwards. The contents of his glass flew over the edge. He tried to move away from the table to lessen the damage but stumbled. Losing what little coordination and balance he had, he landed with a thud on the floor, catching the corner of the oven as he landed. The banging grew louder and impatient. “I’m using my key, Sam!” Josh called as he gave up on the door being opened and let himself in.

Calling Sam’s name, he made his way to the kitchen. In the doorway he paled at the sight before him. Toby was crouching over Sam who was looking dazed and was bleeding profusely from his nose. There was broken glass on the floor and the table was covered with water, running besides soggy cereal boxes and working its way around pieces of fruit. “I knew it! I knew there was something wrong. I should have come sooner. Get away from him, Toby!”

It was at this point that Sam raised his head and peered over Toby to look at Josh. There were no words of thanks for being saved, no softly spoken plea to get him to the hospital. Sam looked dead at Josh, his gaze clear and steady. “You fucking maniac! What the hell? You couldn’t have buzzed like anyone else. Jesus, it’s like something from The Shining.”

“I thought…I thought…”

Sam stood with Toby’s help and glared at Josh. “Would you like an axe for the next time you call?”

Josh jogged along beside Sam as he was led to the bathroom by Toby. “Okay, I may have been a little overzealous but you have to admit that as a concerned friend I rank right up there.” The bathroom door was shut in his face. “I’m going to be right out here. I’m going to wait because I’m a concerned friend, Sam, and that’s what concerned friends do.”

When Sam and Toby emerged from the bathroom Josh was in the kitchen clearing up the mess. Toby walked past him and grabbed some ice, wrapped it in a cloth and passed it to Sam. “Lunatic,” Sam said to Josh as he leant against the worktop and placed the ice on his nose.

“I told you everything was fine. On more than one occasion I assured you everything was fine.” Toby’s exasperation was clear.

“I thought it might have a double meaning.”

Sam rolled his eyes, mumbled lunatic again and shook his head. Toby handed Josh a beer and took two more out before gesturing to the living room. Josh looked across at Sam who was clearly finding it difficult to stay awake.

“You should go lie down,” Josh suggested.

“That was where I was going when my concerned friend started trying to bash the door down.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about your nose…and the glass…and the soggy breakfast stuff.”

Sam nodded, handed his empty bottle to Josh and then curled up on the sofa. He fell asleep moments later. Toby told Josh all about his conversation with Sam and, with a huge sense of relieve and thankfulness, he told Josh that he and Sam were going to be okay.


	34. 34

Josh swivelled his chair around and looked out of his window. The sun had made a bold declaration of its intention to shine this morning and had not wavered from it. The first buds of blossom were beginning to appear. Winter finally seemed a long way off. He returned to his desk and looked at the day’s schedule. A brass band was playing all morning in the lobby. He circled that line; Sam wouldn’t cope with that. Josh was pretty certain he wouldn’t cope with that. It was going to be a long day ending with a State Dinner. He sighed and let his head drop onto his desk. He felt the waft of air and heard the thump as Donna threw some folders down on the desk. He raised his head. “I don’t have my tux.”

“I know.” She picked up a file from his desk and returned it to the shelf. “Do you know where it is?”

“It’s at my place. Wait, no, where is it?” He realised Donna had left the room and followed her out. “Where is it?”

“I’m withholding that information.”

“Why?” Josh’s hurt, confused tone had no effect on her.

“Because I can, Josh.”

“Oh, okay.”

Sam appeared and announced he was looking forward to the state dinner before adding that he didn’t have his tux.

“I know,” Donna told him.

“You know where it is?”

“Georgetown Valet, Pennsylvania Avenue. They’re dropping it off after four and they said to tell you it’s on them and welcome back to work.”

Sam smiled broadly. “Well, isn’t that nice. Isn’t that a grand gesture to make to a man who, let’s face it, has paid his fair share of tux cleaning bills.”

“It is, Sam. I’ll bring it over to you when it gets here.

“Thanks, Donna.” Sam looked at Josh. “You’re not sharing the moment?”

“Donna’s withholding…never mind.” He gestured to his office and sent a glare in Donna’s direction but she had already returned to her desk. 

Josh fetched two bottles of water and threw one at Sam. “Don’t go near the- How you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Okay, don’t go near the lobby there’s brass in there.”

“Military brass?”

“Musical brass. You okay with the State Dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I mean, I hope so,” Sam shrugged, “it’s hard to know what I’m okay with.”

“Do you want to look at the list?”

Sam’s negative response was vehement. Since Sam had returned to work, Josh had been compiling a list of all the situations that Sam had found it hard to cope with. On one level Sam was grateful for his friend’s concern but on another he found the constant reminders that he couldn’t cope maddening. He took a long swig from his bottle and sighed. “Can we just have one day where we pretend the crash never happened?”

“Yeah,” Josh said softly. “Donna is withholding my tux!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, why would you assume I did anything? I haven’t done a thing. I don’t think I have,” he paused, “I made a joke about Minnesota.”

“That would do it.” Sam rose and walked to the door. This felt normal, as much as any day in the West Wing could be termed normal. 

Sam returned to his office and threw himself into his work until Toby came and told him to stop for lunch. 

“No, I’m good, I had a doughnut earlier.”

“Man cannot live on doughnuts alone.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Toby clearly wasn’t going to leave. “You could get me a tuna salad or something.”

“I could, or you could come with.”

Sam shook his head and repeated his earlier lie of not being hungry. When Toby tried again to persuade him, he snapped. “Look, you know I can’t cope with the Mess. Keep trying to get me to go there won’t help. I can live without going to the Mess. Stop forcing the issue.”

Toby was now as used to Sam’s unstable emotions as Josh. Like Josh, he no longer reacted to them. “I’m not sure you can live without going to the Mess as it’s our main source of food.”

“Where do you think I got the doughnut?”

“My desk.”

Sam frowned. “I thought I’d been stealthy.” 

An hour later Sam had finished the tuna salad that Toby had given him and was watching Donna brush indiscernible pieces of fluff from his tux. She had dumped Josh’s on his desk earlier. She stopped her unnecessary task and sat down. “Do you want me to put the brakes on Josh?” Sam frowned and sent a confused smile in Donna’s direction. “I mean, specifically on his lists, prognosis updates and general freaky Dr Lyman behaviour.”

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed. “No, I mean yes, his behaviour is driving me to distraction but no, I don’t want you to put the brakes on. He…what you have to understand is he…” Sam frowned again but this time at his inability to find the words. He took a deep breath. “This is just his way of trying to sue the Klu Klux Klan.” 

Donna walked over to him and pulled him up from his seat. “I know we’re meant to be behaving normally around you but I think you need a hug.” Sam smiled into Donna’s neck as she wrapped her arms around him. They were interrupted by Toby who coughed unsubtly to announce his presence. 

“Have you finished the CLG comments?”

“Yeah.” Sam broke away from Donna, whispering his thanks. He turned his attention to Toby and handed him what he had written. “It’s not going well. It’s got all the points you wanted but it’s not, it’s not my best work is what I’m saying. I mean, I know it’s just the knuckleheaded stuff I’m doing right now but-”

“It’s not knuckleheaded. Don’t say that.”

“Come on, Toby. I remember what my job was.” Sam walked back to his desk and sat down. “Remember that time you came to visit me and I asked you to promise something?”

“I remember. I promised I wouldn’t let you come back to work just because I felt sorry for you. I haven’t and I don’t.”

Sam nodded. “It’s just, it feels a little like that sometimes.”

“Sam, what you have to-” Toby stopped to close the door. “What you have to understand is that you have one of the greatest minds of your generation. Now, I spent a considerable amount of time training and moulding that mind, perfecting its use of punctuation, introducing it to verbs. Do you really think I’m going to let all that work go to waste now?”

Sam couldn’t help smiling at Toby’s words. “You’re retraining me?” 

“I’m getting you back to where you were.” 

Sam nodded slowly. He tipped his head to one side and smiled, “Well, okay then. Are you going to be giving me stuff that the President might read at some point?”

Toby frowned and sat down in the chair opposite Sam’s desk. “Sam, the President reads everything you write now.” He continued despite Sam’s astonishment. “You feel like you’re being kept away from him?” Sam nodded. “There’s not a thing you do here at the moment that the President doesn’t know about. Josh isn’t the only one who has an almost freaky obsession with your recovery.” Toby realised he was perched forward in his seat and relaxed back. “I’m sitting opposite the one man in this building who doesn’t think Sam Seaborn is going to be exactly who he was again.”

Sam was going to make a smartass response about Toby talking about him in the third person. Instead he looked down at his hands unable to find the words to express what he wanted to say. He looked up at Toby’s soft command to do so and shrugged helplessly at his lack of words and sudden moisture in his eyes. Toby nodded and left the room. 

Josh surveyed the scene as he pulled awkwardly at his bowtie. The music was soothing, the guests were chattering quietly and the atmosphere was relaxed. He took a sip of champagne. Perfect conditions for Sam’s first big event at the White House, he decided. CJ appeared beside him and took a glass from a tray as it floated by. 

“Senator Grayson wants to talk to you but he wants you to approach him.”

“This is because of the admissions rider.”

“I would think so. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I’ll saunter up to him later with my usual suave charm.”

“You’re about as suave as a-” Josh never got to find out what he was as suave as because Sam and Toby had appeared in the doorway and CJ was calling them over.

Sam looked as good as he always did in a tux and Toby looked as uncomfortable in his as always. “Later on, Josh is going to approach Senator Grayson with his usual suave charm,” CJ told them.

“What’s wrong with the old arrogant, charmless approach?” Toby asked.

Josh ignored him and peered round him to Sam. “How you doing?”

“Good,” Sam nodded overenthusiastically. He caught sight of a waiter with a tray of drinks and eagerly reached for one. 

Toby groaned and Josh joined him at the sight of Senator Greeson approaching them. “Toby, good to see you.” He held his hand out to Toby and nodded to CJ and Josh. “It must be great having Sam back at work. How’s he getting along?” 

Toby frowned and turned towards Sam. “Well, he’s standing right here why don’t you ask him yourself.”

Greeson laughed uncomfortably. “Of course. Sam, it’s good to see you back at work. How are you coping?” He spoke slowly, as if to a child.

“I’m fine, thank you. Could I get another glass of wine?”

Toby tried to swallow his grin behind a sip of his wine. 

“Oh, well, I’m not a waiter. I’m Harold Greeson we’ve met a number of times…”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry, Harold, I’m coming up blank.”

Greeson smiled awkwardly and, pretending to call out to someone on the other side of the room, darted away.

“Jackass,” Sam stated, downing the rest of his drink. The Marines Band started to play Hail to the Chief as the President and First Lady appeared with the visiting French President. Sam pulled at his bowtie running a ring around his shirt collar to loosen it. The French National Anthem was next, followed by the Star-Spangled Banner. As the guests applauded and took their seats for the Presidents’ speeches, Sam followed his friends to their table. The speeches were short and apart from Toby’s occasional grimace at Bartlet’s delivery of a line, the four friends sat quietly while more applause, handshakes and photo opportunities took place. 

Sam had unconsciously already planned his escape route from the room. The table was near a door and so he would not have far to go. After the annoyance of Senator Greeson’s tactlessness and the mild feeling of panic he had experienced listening to the Marine Band, Sam had relaxed and was enjoying listening to his friends’ banter. Josh had been talking animatedly to CJ when he stopped midsentence and cocked his head at the strange sound coming from outside. The doors were swung open and four accordion players entered the room playing I love Paris, much to the delight of the French President’s wife. 

The sound was quite something. The four musicians stopped right beside Sam’s table. Applause and laughter filled the room as the tune merged into the Can-Can. CJ was clapping along, Josh who always found accordions amusing was laughing and even Toby seemed to be enjoying the entertainment. 

The music was getting faster, CJ was clapping. The way to the door was blocked. The music was getting faster. CJ leant over to Toby and said something that made him smile. Getting faster. Sam pulled at his bowtie and placed his foot on the floor to stop his leg shaking. One of the accordionists looked at him and grinned. Faster. A waiter dashed behind the table a blur of black and white. Sam rubbed at his face and swallowed against the sour taste in his mouth. CJ stopped clapping. She reached over the table and lifted Sam’s hand away from his shattered champagne glass. Toby cursed and grabbed a napkin, wrapping it around Sam’s hand, he told him to sit tight. Sam stared at the mess on the table which Donna was covering with another napkin. His leg was still shaking, tapping against his chair. He wanted to bolt but Toby had a tight hold on his hand. 

As one, the accordionists started to move. They appeared to perform a magic trick for as they walked in front of the table its occupants took the opportunity to leave the room. When the last accordionist filed by, four senior staffers had vanished. 

Outside the room Sam insisted he was fine. Josh snorted unhelpfully and CJ sighed at the pair of them. Telling CJ and Josh to go back to the dinner, Toby led Sam to the men’s room. He carefully unwrapped the napkin and held Sam’s hand under the water. Sam watched in fascination as a few pieces of glass were washed away in the rivulets of bloodied water. He let Toby inspect the cuts carefully and with a gentleness that surprised him, pat his hand dry with towels. Sam thanked him.

“No problem. How you feeling?”

“Fine. You’re not worried about anyone seeing that are you?”

Toby nodded, “I could do without any headlines involving your return to work at the moment.”

“I don’t think the notion that being confronted by a band of accordionists could tip a man over the edge is going to be breaking news.”

“Maybe not.”

“I would think there’d be quite the number of people who would find that an unnerving experience.” 

A smile flashed across Toby’s face. Sam saw its reflection in the mirror. 

“Okay, well, you ready to go back?”

Sam nodded. 

Sam took his seat again looking pale but calm. He leaned towards Josh. “Have you got your list?”

Josh patted at his pocket and shook his head. “Do I need it?”

“You should probably add accordion players to it. Just so we know for the next time. I’m not saying a solo accordionist would cause a problem but if we ever encounter a group of them well, forewarned is forearmed.”

“Okay, it’s in my office.” Josh stood and started to leave before turning back to the table to look at his friend. “Oh, I get it, very good. That’s very funny, Sam. You were mocking me.”

Sam nodded happily and CJ finally let her laughter escape.

“I’ll have you know the First Lady told me that not many men have the sort of brain that would allow them to keep such a detailed, beneficial record of another man’s recovery.”

CJ’s laughter increased and was joined by Toby’s. “Oh, she was mocking me too wasn’t she?”

Sam smiled at his friend while patting his arm. “Never mind, Josh, I appreciate your detailed, beneficial record of my recovery and I think, when this is all over, you should think about getting it published.”

“Maybe somewhere like the New England Journal of Medicine?”

“Well I was thinking more like Mad Magazine but you go right ahead, dream big.”

Josh shook his head sadly. “Again, they mock.” He held up his glass and toasted accordionists and lists. The clinking of glasses and laughter caught Leo’s attention. He smiled as he watched them.


	35. 35

Spring had blanketed DC in blossom. The petals had disappeared now though and the first few days of May had brought with them heat and humidity. Toby sighed at the stifling atmosphere in his office and looked back at the blank screen in front of him. He sighed again. This time the sound was born of frustration at his lack of words and ideas. He picked up a rubber ball from his desk and then quickly replaced it remembering the effect it’d had on Sam the last time he’d used it. He stood, picked up his empty coffee cup and left his office.

Sam looked up as the figure passed his doorway and then he returned to his work. A few moments later the same figure passed by slowly. Sam put down his pen and frowned. “Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I help you with something?”

“I was just, you know, getting the blood flowing.”

Sam nodded and looked back down at the pad he was making notes on. He tried to ignore the fact that Toby was still pacing outside, but eventually threw his pen and pad down. He leaned against the doorjamb and waited for Toby to complete his circuit around Ginger’s desk. “Is it flowing?”

“Only to my feet.”

“Ah.” Sam folded his arms and continued to watch. 

Eventually Toby stopped his patrol and entered Sam’s office. “I’m working on the Rural Bill thing.” Toby wandered over to the wall by Sam’s desk and straightened a photo. “It’s…I don’t…I haven’t got the…” 

“I can have a look at it.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just getting the blood flowing.”

“Fine.” Sam quickly turned his attention back to his work.

“It’s not that I don’t think you-”

“I said it’s fine, Toby. Did you need something else?”

Toby shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shook his head and when it was clear Sam wasn’t going to look up, he returned to his office.

Sam remained focused on his work. He was determined to work for longer this morning that he had yet managed. He pulled open a folder and read the report that Leo wanted summarising and then refilled his coffee cup before beginning. Josh wasn’t the only one keeping a list. Sam had his own list; a list of personal bests. The longest he had worked before losing focus was one hour and twelve minutes. The longest he had sat in a meeting before losing the thread of the conversation was forty-three minutes. So far he had been working on the summary for one hour and five minutes. At one hour and eleven minutes Josh burst into his office. 

“You wanna get lunch?”

“Josh!”

“What?”

“I was working.”

“Me too but now I want lunch.”

“No, I mean I was trying to…I was doing a thing.”

Josh smiled in confusion and then repeated his invite. Sam quickly jotted the time on his pad and followed him out of the office. 

Sam had started going to the Mess more often to eat but Josh made sure he found a quiet table in the corner. Josh commented on how much more food Sam had been given.

“It’s since I got back, they think I need building up.”

“You do.” Josh took a huge bite of his sandwich, grabbing a napkin to catch the mayonnaise that leaked from it. “What’s up with Toby?”

Sam shrugged but then added that he was struggling with a speech.

“Did he ask you to help?”

“No. I’m not up to writing speeches yet. Plus, he likes to go it alone when he’s-”

“Who said you weren’t up to writing speeches?”

“No one said it, not directly. I mean it’s pretty obvious from what I’m being given that no one’s in any hurry...”

“No one’s in any hurry…” Josh prompted.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. There’s no hurry to see if I’m ready to bring my A game.”

“Where did this come from? You know that we’re working with your doctors, that we’ve got the coolest return to work plan ever written, that we’ve done everything we can to make sure that-”

“I know! Can we just-” Sam gestured to the food and they carried on eating. 

When they had finished, a giant slice of cheesecake was presented to Sam. After Josh complained and pointed out that he had been shot once, another slice was brought to their table. “Remind me to eat lunch with you more often!” he smiled as looked down at his dessert. Sam rolled his eyes but had to admit being his dining partner at the moment had its advantages. 

Josh finished his slice quickly, placed his plate to the side and reached for his coffee. “You know, Toby wants you to help him he just doesn’t know how to ask.”

“He knows how to ask he just doesn’t want to, which is fine, it’s all fine. I understand where he is. I’m just disappointed I guess that after all that’s happened and everything we’ve said, he still has this thing about me helping him.”

Josh was about to object but he could tell by Sam’s expression that the conversation was over. They returned to their offices. 

An hour later, Sam had finished his work for Leo and called for Ginger to find out when Leo would be free. He assumed Toby had appeared in his doorway to check what he had done but then Toby closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk. He cleared his throat and then began. “It’s not that I don’t think you can do it. It’s, you know, what I said when we talked before. It’s because when I ask for help I’m admitting, you know, it’s because of that.”

“Toby, there’ll come a point when you’ll just have to accept that I’m a better writer than you.”

Whatever response Toby had been expecting it wasn’t that. A small smile flitted across his face. Sam was ending the discussion, giving him an out.

“Let’s just accept I haven’t reached that point yet and move on.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed. He followed Toby into his office and settled down on the sofa. “Give me everything you’ve got so far.”

Toby picked a scrunched-up ball of paper out of the trash can. Sam raised his eyes. “That bad?”

“Yeah,” Toby sighed.

“Okay, I tell you what we’re going to do.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna start from scratch.” Sam picked up his pad. “Okay, here we go,” he chewed the top of his pen, “I might need a few background notes on the Rural Bill.”

Toby sighed deeply and called for Ginger.

Three hours later and Sam and Toby had three pages of work that would amount to the first few paragraphs of the President’s speech introducing the bill. Ginger had supplied them with every memo, paper and file that had been produced on the subject and the rural economic strategy, not to mention an endless supply of coffee. Sam then asked Ginger to get a copy of The Grapes of Wrath and an hour later they had three more pages. 

Sam was so absorbed in his writing that it didn’t even occur to him that he had beaten his personal best for sustained concentration three times over. Toby too had returned to a time when how far he could push Sam wasn’t a concern. Somewhere along the way, Sam’s ideas and words had inspired Toby out of his block. Sam’s pen had stilled as Toby’s had started to move. Sam made a comment and Toby told him it was okay, that he had it. Sam made another suggestion and Toby told him to shut up.

The first time Josh had tried to get into Toby’s office, Ginger had been surprisingly stern with him about not disturbing them. He had phoned but Toby had unplugged the phone in his office and muted his cell. Finally, Josh had decided he would be put off no more and stormed into the communications Bullpen. Ignoring Ginger, he burst into Toby’s office and stood, imposingly he thought, in the open doorway. The sight that greeted him was not what he’d expected. Toby, oblivious to his presence, was absorbed by his writing. Sam was fast asleep on the sofa.


	36. 36

Josh put his feet on the chair opposite and settled back. Toby and CJ were going over some briefing notes and Sam was asleep. Air force One was taking them to California. Two town hall meetings, a tour of an electric car plant, a breakfast meeting, opera at the War Memorial Opera House and a visit to an elementary school were going to make for a very busy few days. As well as the scheduled events a number of behind the scenes meetings were going to take place. Support was being sought for social security reform and the meetings would hopefully show that a number of key players would be backing it, at least in principle. To add to the stress, DC’s heat wave was nothing compared to the soaring temperatures currently hitting California.

It was mid-July. Sam was now working fulltime although the hours he worked varied. He could stay focused in meetings and discussions for greater lengths of time and it was often all too easy to forget how ill he had been and that he was still recovering. He took himself off when he needed to and had developed ways of managing situations that he found difficult.  
But then, out of the blue, he would suddenly seem to go back to months earlier in his recovery. His memory would decline or a situation he had dealt with numerous times would suddenly be overwhelming. At these times, Sam withdrew from everyone. The fatigue, that had never left him since the accident, would become exhaustion and he would eventually have no choice but to remain at home until he felt well enough to return. 

Josh was thinking about these relapses in Sam’s recovery as he watched him sleep. The trip to California was the first one Sam was taking since the accident. It was yet another milestone in his recovery. Josh was sick of milestones. He was sick of keeping a mental tally of things Sam did and said that demonstrated further steps in his recovery. He wanted his friend back now. He was impatient but his impatience paled when compared to Sam’s increasing frustration at his slow journey back to the man, he now clearly remembered, he had been. 

Josh leant forward and picked up a magazine in an attempt to think about something else. His head narrowly missed clashing with Sam’s who suddenly lurched forward in his seat, coming awake with a harsh intake of breath. Sam looked around trying to gain his bearings and slowly recognised the three concerned faces of Toby, CJ and Josh. He wiped a hand over his face and breathed deeply, blowing it out in a shuddering breath. He held up his hand dismissing Josh’s enquiries and CJ’s offer to get him some water. He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes in the hope that the others would get the message and ignore his shaking hands and erratic breathing. They did, but not without a series of raised eyebrows and concerned glances. 

They arrived late in the evening and having eaten on the plane the plan was to have a short meeting before CJ held a press briefing then a meeting with the President followed by a reasonably early night. Sam listened as Toby impressed upon Bartlet again the importance of the pause in the second paragraph of the speech that was being made tomorrow. He knew Toby was focusing on that because he could now do no more about the meetings planned for the trip. He also knew the President would only take so much misdirected anxiety from Toby, especially when it concerned his skills as an orator. Sam stood up and told Toby in no uncertain terms that the speech worked with or without a pause and that the meetings were going to work too so everyone should just go to bed and quit acting like worrywarts. 

Sam entered his hotel room, placed his bag at the end of the bed and pulled off his tie before collapsing onto the crisp white sheets. 

“Are you going to sleep like that?” Josh asked from the adjoining door.

“Yup.” 

Josh smiled and went over to the mini-bar to check out the contents. “You’ve got two more bottles than I have!”

“Go away!”

“Seriously, man, at least take off your shoes.” 

With a groan that Josh was sure could be heard on the floor below, Sam moved to the edge of the bed and slowly removed his shoes. 

Josh drained the last of his orange juice and turned the page of his newspaper. CJ and Toby had joined him and they sat in companionable silence, eating breakfast and watching CNN. They had agreed to meet in Josh’s room that morning to go through some last-minute plans for the day. Toby glanced at his watch and then walked over to the door between Josh and Sam’s rooms. “Hey, sleeping beauty, you up?”

Toby jumped back in surprise as his question was answered by the door being opened by a weary looking Sam. “Did you sleep?”

“What time are we leaving? Have I got time to grab something?”

“8.30, you’ve plenty of time. Did you sleep?” Toby repeated.

“I slept.” Sam walked over to the table and picked a muffin from the tray. “Am I meeting with Harlow alone?”

“Yeah, but I can come in on that if you want me to?”

“I don’t need my hand holding I was just checking, last night you were saying Ed might come in on it to talk about the R9 funding.”

“Ed’s going in with Josh now,” Toby explained. “Josh does need his hand holding, especially when he’s having meetings about matters he knows little, and cares less, about.”

“That pretty much describes most of my meetings,” Josh said, smiling disarmingly.

Sam poured himself a coffee and then went back to his room. He threw the muffin in the wastebasket as his stomach turned then he sat on the bed and pulled one of the files, that he had spent most of the night reading, towards him.

“How did it go?” Toby jogged up the hotel steps to catch up to Sam. He only had a few minutes before he was meant to leave with the President. He grabbed Sam’s elbow to slow him down and repeated his question.

“Good, I think. It’s as we expected, no surprises. I think the Matlin Committee is going to work out better for us than we thought.” 

“You okay?” 

“I’ve got a couple of hours so I’m going to go over the town hall comments.”

Toby realised he still had a hold of Sam’s elbow and let go. “They’re fine. We can look over them tonight. Get some sleep or go use the hotel pool or something.” 

“Yeah.” Sam turned away and carried on up the steps. Toby started to follow but heard his name being called and saw the motorcade starting to move. He glanced back at Sam before hurrying back down the steps.

Once the curtains were drawn and the lamp off, Sam’s hotel room was surprisingly dark. He set his cell phone’s alarm in the vain hope that sleep would come. After a few moments the rushing sound he’d had in his head all morning faded and was replaced with the sound of a busy hotel in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the elevator was next to Sam’s room. The pinging of its bell and the whooshing doors were less aggravating than the snatches of conversation coming from the people getting on and off it. The usual unfathomable hotel sounds of air-conditioning units or whatever caused them also seemed close to Sam’s room or more specifically its window. He sighed deeply and rolled over. 

Thinking back to the meeting he tried to remember the last words Peter Harlow had said to him. He had written them down as he now wrote down anything that he knew was important. ‘Your dad still got that boat, Sam?’ No, it was after that, he’d said it when they were shaking hands. ‘Tell Josh Lyman he should look out for the Barnell Committee recommendations.’ No, they already knew that. Sam rubbed at his neck and rolled over again. ‘It’s the pensions that are going to screw you.’ That was it. Harlow said that but it was what he had said after that was important, the name of a person or maybe an organisation that would prove to be an unexpected ally. 

A gale of laughter erupted outside of his room and Sam cursed at the interruption to his train of thought and sat up in the bed. He tried thinking back to the beginning of the meeting, tried to recall how it had begun. That was lost to him too. He should get something to eat and then try to sleep. He should get rid of the nausea that had boarded Air Force One with him and accompanied him ever since and then try to sleep. He lay down and closed his eyes. He couldn’t eat nor could he sleep. The rushing sound returned, drowning out all over sounds. He curled into a tight ball and waited for the alarm to sound.

Toby was sitting in the corner of the meeting room grumbling about pauses and how they should be used to the best effect in oratory. The President had clearly ignored Toby’s instructions and was doing just as good a job at ignoring his criticism now. “They loved me, Sam!”

“I’m pleased to hear it, sir.”

“Mr Grumpy over there thinks the absence of a pause in the second paragraph changed the meaning and tone of the speech. What do you think, Sam?”

“I wasn’t there, sir.”

“Good answer! Well, I was and I have to tell you that despite the fluent rhetoric of paragraph two, they loved me. They had banners, Sam. Some of them were wearing badges. Have you ever had a badge with your picture on it, Toby?”

“You mean that I didn’t make myself?”

“A man who people wear badges of should be able to choose when…and if, to pause.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned towards Toby. “You see what I did there, I put a pause between ‘when’ and ‘and’. I think it worked.”

Sam noticed the slight flicker of a smile on Toby’s face as he nodded. “Yes, Mr President. It worked.” 

On the speakerphone, Leo could be heard clearly calling the meeting to order and Sam sat down next to Josh and listened as the day’s meetings and visits were reviewed. When it came to his turn he pulled out his notes and read from them. He finished with Harlow’s advice and sat back as the others speculated as to its meaning and how best to respond. 

“I think he’s stirring things up. I think he wants us to approach Senator Burrows and then he’ll be able to say we’ve been drumming up support before we’ve-”

“No, it’s not us he wants to call out,” Josh interrupted Toby, “it’s the committee. Did he mention it when you were talking about the funding, Sam?”

“I don’t remember, I think they’re electing a new chair.” Sam picked up his notes and started to scan them.

“He told you that?”

“I don’t…I think I heard that somewhere else.”

Josh stood and started to pace. “He’s making hints, mentioning the chair’s up for grabs.” He paced some more and then stopped behind Sam. “Think, Sam! Did he tell you about electing a chair when you met?”

“I can’t remember! I suppose he must have but it didn’t strike me as important at the time or I-”

“Did he say Burrows was making a move for chair?”

“He might have…no, I’d have-”

“Did he or didn’t he? God, Sam, it was less than five hours ago!”

The sound of Sam’s fist hitting the table equalled the volume of his voice. “Damn it, Josh, are you fucking deaf? I said I can’t remember!”

Bartlet sat back and looked at his staff. Josh looked as if he had been punched. His face had lost all colour but it was nothing compared to the bleached pallor of Sam’s. Toby and CJ were staring at Sam but no one made a move. It was Leo’s voice that broke the silence. “What the hell’s going on over there?”

The President answered that he would call Leo back and reached over to end the call. Still no one spoke. Josh took a step towards Sam, his name spoken softly with a questioning tone to it. Sam held his hand up. He was okay. He was tired. He was sorry. He was going to his room to get some sleep. He was sorry. All this was stated as he backed out of the room. It was only when the door closed behind him that the silence was broken, tentatively at first and then in a torrent of accusations and defensive comebacks. 

When CJ thought Toby and Josh might actually come to blows, she stood and placed herself between them. “Well, this is really useful. Josh knows he’s been an idiot, Toby. The thing is what we’re going to do about it.”

Bartlet stood and placed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do about Josh being an idiot. One of you should go check on Sam though and I think it probably shouldn’t be you, Josh.”

“I’ll go,” Toby said as he stood. “He’ll tell me he’s okay or pretend to be asleep but I’ll go.”

Sam pretended to be asleep and when Toby poked him in the arm until he stopped pretending, he told him he was okay. Toby returned to find CJ and Josh waiting for him. They went to the hotel bar and spent the rest of the evening there.

At breakfast the next morning it was clear that they had spent longer in the bar than was wise when faced with a 6am start. CJ sipped orange juice, viewing the world from behind dark glasses. Josh’s head was on the table, his occasional groans the only sign of life. Toby’s hangover took him to a new level of grouchiness and he only showed any sign of interest in events around him when Sam entered the room and walked over to them. Sam tutted and shook his head. “Priests and prophets stagger and reel from beer and wine, err in vision, and stumble in judgment.” Josh’s response was somewhere between a groan and a gurgle. Sam smiled and sat down. He enjoyed his coffee in silence, his companions seemingly unable to offer anything in the way of intelligent conversation.

CJ reluctantly removed her sunglasses when she entered the school hall. A glance down at her clipboard confirmed her fears that she was about to be treated to three tunes by the school’s brass band. She looked through the window and saw Josh standing outside pretending to be on his cell phone. He’d obviously checked the schedule before entering the hall. CJ pulled a bottle of water from her bag and took a long drink. It was during the second number from the out of tune and way too loud band that CJ was relieved to feel her cell phone vibrate. She left the hall and immediately saw Josh heading towards her. He was also on the phone.

“It’s me,” Josh announced. 

CJ told held up her hand to indicate she was taking a call.

“On the phone, it’s me on the phone,” Josh clarified into his phone.

“Well we should hang up then.” Both feeling foolish, they put their phones away and carried on the conversation. “What’s up?”

“I can’t find, Sam.”

“He’s with Toby isn’t he?”

Josh shook his head. “I thought he was but Toby’s been making some revisions with Ed in the car since we got here.”

“Does Toby know?”

“Yeah, he’s trying Sam’s cell.”

Josh took CJ’s elbow and led her outside. She placed her sunglasses back on as the glare of the sun’s reflection off the line of cars hit her. Toby was sat sideways in the doorway of one of the cars. He closed his phone and walked over to them. “He’s not answering.”

“Damn it, this is going to be a thing,” Josh muttered.

“It’s not a thing until I say it is,” Toby announced. He was going to continue but was stopped by one of the agents calling him over. He walked back to the cars and had a short conversation before returning to CJ and Josh. “Okay, it’s a thing.”

“I knew it was,” Josh declared.

“I’m gonna go see him and probably take him back to the hotel. You two better get back in there.” Toby nodded to the school’s entrance and reluctantly Josh followed CJ back into the building.

Toby followed the agent who had told him that Sam had been found wandering around the campus. An agent had stayed nearby but took his leave now that Toby had arrived. Sam was sat on a bench in the shade. Toby was glad of it as the morning sun was already blisteringly hot. He passed Sam a bottle of water that he had grabbed from one of the cars and studied him as he drank. “What happened?”

Sam replaced the lid on the bottle and ran a hand through his hair. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” 

Toby, relieved that action was required over talking, quickly hailed a cab and ushered Sam into it. They arrived at the hotel minutes later and as they waited for the elevator Toby saw just how exhausted Sam was.

Once inside his room, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, pulling at his tie and pushing off his shoes. Toby was busy closing the curtains and placing the do not disturb sign on the door. Sam threw his tie onto the floor and undid the top buttons of his shirt before collapsing back onto the bed. He felt the mattress dip as Toby sat on the edge of it. “Is there anything I need to know about what happened at the school?”

“No.”

“Can you remember what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“I went outside to get some air then I threw up in the trashcan by the swings. I had a wander around and then I tripped over the netting from the outdoor seascape and then I had another wander which is when Agent Donald found me.”

“What’s an outdoor seascape? No, I don’t care. Did anyone see you? Does CJ need to know anything?”

“I was very discreet, except for when I fell into the clam. You don’t need to worry there was no one around.”

“Why did you throw up?”

“Heat, too much black coffee, tiredness, anxiety…possibly a dodgy clam.”

“Okay. Take the afternoon and see how you feel later.” 

Sam mumbled a reply. He could feel the dip of the bed where Toby sat and to his surprise he could already feel himself succumbing to sleep. He was asleep when the dip rose as Toby stood and left the room.


	37. 37

Josh entered his hotel room quietly. The opera had seemed never-ending. A couple of telephone calls and one snatched meeting in the opera house kitchens had provided his only escape from it. Donna had been entranced from the first note and he only suffered listening to her talk about it all the way back to the hotel because she had let him sleep through the whole of the last act. He yawned and stretched and then walked to the door to Sam’s room. He listened for a while before tapping softly. After a few moments he carefully opened the door and tiptoed over to the bed. He stood and watched as the comforter dipped and rose with Sam’s breathing. Satisfied that Sam was sleeping well, he returned to his room and quickly drifted into a sleep as deep as Sam’s. 

The following morning Sam assured Toby he was fine. He had seemed fine during breakfast and during the journey to the car plant. It was only during the President’s speech that Toby realised it had been a while since he had seen him. He realised this at around the same time as CJ and Josh and they found themselves in an impromptu gathering. Toby listened to the speech and announced they had around twenty minutes before it would be time to go. CJ set off to look around the plant, Josh headed for the motorcade and Toby went in the opposite direction around the back. 

Toby thought about why Sam might have disappeared. It had been intolerably hot inside and the demonstrations organised for the President’s visit had not helped. He didn’t think heat alone would cause Sam to go beyond the area directly outside. Maybe it had been the sounds of the cars? Toby thought about the revving engines and wondered if that had caused some sort of flashback. With that thought he hurried his step and tried Sam’s cell again. The back of the large building was almost entirely in shade and Toby went in that direction assuming Sam would have done the same. He was not disappointed. Sam was sitting on the floor leaning against a stack of tyres. His suit jacket was on the floor along with his phone and a copy of the speech the President was delivering in the building behind them. Toby quickly phoned Josh, said ‘found him’ and hung up. 

Sam’s head was bent downwards and his elbows resting on his knees. Toby called his name as he approached but Sam’s head just dipped lower. “We were looking for you.”

“Well you found me.”

“Yeah. The speech is nearly over, we should get going.” Toby frowned and turned so he could get a clearer look at Sam. His eyes were red, which was the only colour on his face. Even his brilliant blue eyes seemed to have lost their hue. His hands were clasped tightly in a useless attempt to stop their shaking. “Sam, we need to get going.”

“You go. I’m going to stay here. I like it here.” 

“What’s not to like,” Toby replied of the nondescript, tarmacked area surrounded by tyres.   
Sam laughed gently and let his head fall back against the wall. “I can’t go back because I really don’t think I can take another step right now.”

“I’m not surprised you’re beat. You’ve done good these past few days. There’ve been a few issues but nothing we couldn’t cope with.”

“You, Josh, CJ…there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to help me and I know that and it means more than any of you will ever realise. I just…I can’t…” Sam’s head ducked down and when he lifted it he looked directly at Toby. “I can’t do it anymore, Toby.” Sam’s expression showed his frustration at his inability to verbalise his thoughts. 

“Let’s just go back to the hotel. You can rest up and then tomorrow when we’re back home we can talk more about-”

“Shut up! Please, I’m sorry, but please just stop talking and listen to me.”

Toby’s knees protested audibly as he crouched down in front of him. “No, Sam, I’m sorry. Go on,” he encouraged him.

“I don’t think I should go back to DC?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to go back to DC.”

“Why not?”

“I’m trying to please everyone and it takes too much out of me, too much away from me. I need-”

“What? What do you need, Sam?”

“I need to go home.”

“You want to stay in California?”

“Yeah.” Sam relaxed and blew out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” Toby stretched his legs out in front of him and Sam did the same. They could hear the outriders’ sirens as the motorcade started to leave. Toby’s phone started to ring and he knew before looking at the screen that it would be Josh. CJ was holding a briefing at the plant and he assumed Josh had stayed as well. He didn’t tell Josh where he was but told him to phone when CJ was finished. Hanging up quickly he turned his attention back to Sam.   
“This is just a temporary thing, right?”

“I think so.”

Toby frowned and ran his finger along his forehead. “Are you thinking you might not come back at all?”

“No, that’s not it, I just need some time.” Sam closed his eyes and let his head rest against the wall.

Toby desperately wanted to push Sam and make him promise he’d come back to the White House but he knew that wasn’t fair. “Whatever you need, Sam, you know that, whatever you need.”

Sam nodded slowly and let out another long sigh. “Was that Jack on the phone?” 

“Who?”

“Just then, was it Josh?”

“Yeah, it was Josh.” Toby was frowning again. He took a good look at Sam and decided he should get him back to the car. He stood and held out his hand. Sam took it gratefully.

“I can’t remember where we are,” he admitted quietly once he had found his balance.

“That might not be a brain injury thing,” Toby said as he guided Sam forwards, “remember on the campaign when you spent two days in Chicago thinking we were in Pittsburgh?”

A small, tired smile crossed Sam’s face. “None of us knew where we were on the campaign.”

“True,” Toby admitted. They had reached the cars and he put Sam in one and then phoned Josh and told him he was taking Sam back to the hotel. For the second time that day he hung up on Josh, ending his protests, and focused his attention on Sam.

Sam had slept for the rest of the afternoon and now woke to find CJ and Josh standing by his bed and Toby sitting on the end of it. “Am I dying?” he asked, “because if I am, I might need a bit of time to think up some pithy last words.”

“You’re eating,” CJ clarified.

Sam looked beyond her to see a trolley with four meals on it. He pushed the comforter back and went to wash his face. When he returned his bed had been made and Josh was sitting on it already tucking into a burger. CJ and Toby had pulled seats up and Sam picked up his plate and sat on the edge of the bed. He pointed out there was a table in Josh’s room but everyone seemed happy where they were.

Sam wasn’t sure what Toby had told the others but he judged from Josh’s cheerful countenance that he hadn’t told them about Sam’s plans. 

Whilst they ate, Josh told them about a conversation he’d had with a congressman that afternoon and CJ shared a conversation she’d had with Chuck Davy from CNN. Both tales were entertaining and Sam was content to sit and listen as he ate.

As coffee was made, Toby raided the mini-bar. Josh returned to the bed and then turned to Sam. “You had me pretty worried back at the plant. How you feeling now?”

“Like I finally managed to sleep for more than two hours,” Sam announced.

“You know, when we get back you could take a few days. I know the trip has-”

“Josh…” Sam started.

“Yeah?”

Toby waited but it was clear Sam had lost his nerve. “Sam isn’t coming back,” he finished for him.

“What do you mean?” Josh turned back to Sam, “What do you mean you’re not coming back?”

“I’m going to stay here. I’m going home, well, to my mom’s home, it was my home once so I suppose it’s still-”

“What the hell? Where did this come from? You’ve done great on this trip, and since you came back. You’ve been coping. You’re coping right?” Josh seemed to deflate. “I thought you were coping.”

“I was. I am. I just…” Sam looked to Toby to provide his words again but Toby shook his head and forced him to continue. “I need a break from trying to be me, no, that’s not…” he stood, “I can see me now. I can see who I was before. I know what I have to get back to now and it makes it harder because I can’t always get there.”

The sudden gale of laughter that came from the corridor outside only heightened the silence that had descended on the room. Josh walked over to Sam and waited until he had drawn his attention away from his shoes. “Then you go home and get strong enough to keep trying.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I’ll come back. I just don’t know when.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Josh left the room and Sam looked worriedly at Toby until Josh returned laden with bottles from his mini-bar. They spent the next two hours drinking and talking and Toby was relieved to see Sam looking more relaxed that he had since they had boarded Air Force One.

The following morning there was time for a more leisurely breakfast than usual before the flight back to DC and the four friends sat in companionable silence as they ate and scanned the morning papers. Sam’s phone vibrated on the table and he sighed deeply before picking it up. “Hello Mrs Steel. Yeah, thanks for doing this. I’ll let you know when I’m coming back. No, I’m fine, I always look pale on the television. Yeah, well I don’t think- Well, okay.” Sam turned away from the table. “Hi, little man, I hope you’re behaving. I’m missing you and I’ll see you soon. Hi, thanks, Mrs Steel, I’ll speak to you soon.” He closed his phone and placed it back on the table.

“Who was that?” Josh asked.

“Mrs Steel.”

“No, the ‘little man’.”

“My nephew.”

“Oh.” Josh took a bite of toast, then, “You don’t have a nephew!”

“No. It’s a friend’s son, I call him a nephew because he’s...like a nephew to me.”

“Isn’t Mrs Steel the lady who looks after Nickleby?”

Sam knew he was blushing, could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Yes she is.”

“I thought so.” Josh took another bite of toast and then shared a grin with CJ. “Sam, did you just tell your cat that you’re missing him?”

CJ took a large bite of a croissant hoping to swallow her laughter along with it. 

“Yes, Josh, I just told my cat I miss him. Mrs Steel is an excellent cat sitter but she insists on a telephone call between cat and owner as she believes that-” Sam didn’t get to explain what Mrs Steel believed as CJ’s laughter finally escaped in a burst of sound that made several guests look over.

Sam picked up his newspaper and shook it straight in a very aggressive way before hiding behind it. By the time Charlie came over to tell them the cars were ready, CJ had composed herself and Sam had lowered the newspaper. They grabbed their bags and walked to the entrance, saying goodbye to Sam one by one. Josh hugged him closely and told him that if he wasn’t back in DC soon he’d come and get him.

“I know you will,” Sam replied.

Sam watched the cars drive away and waved until the last one turned the corner. He was going to spend another day at the hotel and then go to his mom’s. She was on a flight back to California. She’d spent the last week in DC. Leo had taken her to the airport earlier and she’d been surprised to find just how difficult it was becoming to leave him.


	38. Chapter 38

“Josh, you’ve got Halligan on the Hill in-” Donna looked at Josh suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing! I’m working.”

“No you’re not. You were looking at something you shouldn’t be!” She walked behind his desk and minimised the word document. “Aha!” she cried as the internet window appeared showing flights to California. “Leo made himself pretty clear on that.”

“Yes.”

“Under no circumstances are you to even consider the notion of going to California. Those were his exact words.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you’re looking at flights.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t go, Josh.”

“I know.”

“Leo talks to Claire and she said that Sam isn’t-”

“I know!” Josh rolled his eyes in silent apology then sighed and closed the internet page. “I know.”

“You’ve got Halligan on the Hill in twenty.”

Josh nodded and turned back to the work on his desk. “I know.”

Sam hadn’t been ready. Claire had explained this to Josh, Leo and Toby. She turned her thoughts away from the White House and back to Sam who was coming down the stairs. “Are you going sailing?” she asked as she poured a coffee and a glass of orange for him.

“Yeah, not too far out though.” He gulped down the juice and then took the coffee and the newspaper into the living room. She followed him and sat down beside him. 

“What are you doing later?”

“No plans. You?”

“No plans.” She picked up a magazine and browsed through it. “I saw Mark Chapman yesterday.”

Sam put his paper down and looked at her. “Really? You always predicted a dark future for him.” 

“And I was right! He ended up in jail.”

Sam smiled. “I don’t think he went to jail for making me give him my lunch money.”

“That’s where it started.”

“He went to jail for embezzling public funds.”

“Exactly!”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “Okay, Judge Judy.”

“So, you’ll be around later.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll just- Hold on! What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.” She put the magazine down. “Leo’s going to call tonight and I said if you were around you might like to speak to him. If you wanted to.”

“I might.”

“Well, good then.” 

Sam raised his paper and Claire her magazine.

“I might not.” The paper and magazine were lowered again. “I’m just saying, I might, I might not.” Magazine and paper were raised again and they sat in silence until Sam left. 

Claire waited until the door closed before she picked up the phone. “I asked him and he said he might speak to you. Then again, Leo, he might not.”

Later that evening, Leo was as relieved as Claire that Sam had decided on the ‘might’ option.   
“How you doing, Sam?” 

“I’m sailing, eating home cooked food, running on the beach every day and I haven’t been woken by an alarm clock since I got here.”

“Man, that sounds good.”

Sam smiled as Leo began to tell him about a trip to Detroit. When the call ended he was surprised to find he’d been talking to him for nearly an hour. 

Josh was standing in the doorway to Sam’s office staring at the empty desk. Toby only waited a few moments before calling him into his office. “You’re moping.”

“I am so not moping!” Josh protested. “Lymans don’t mope, we brood, occasionally we pine but we do not mope.”

“Well whatever you’re doing, can you go do it in your own office!”

Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window. “It’s been three weeks, Toby!”

“You can add whining to the list of things Lymans do.” Toby glanced up at Josh and sighed. 

“You just have to accept the fact that there is absolutely nothing you can do but wait this one out.”

“I don’t do waiting that well.”

“No kidding!” Toby picked up his cup and walked to the coffee machine. When he returned Josh was still at the window. Toby closed the door behind him. “If he’s not back in a week we’ll think again.”

“You mean by next Monday?”

“Well yeah, I was sort of counting seven days as a week.”

“No, because you could have meant a working week which would be Friday and if we-”

“If you don’t get out of my office in the next five seconds, I’ll-” Josh didn’t hear what Toby would do; knowing when to make a swift exit was another entry on the list of things Lymans did.

The President sat at his desk and sighed deeply. He picked up the copy of Toby’s speech which he had already read twice. He started again but then dropped it onto his desk and called for Charlie. “Is Toby still here?”

“He’s pretty much here all the time at the moment.”

“Yeah, well ask him to come see me, would you?”

Whilst Bartlet waited he poured two drinks and took them and the speech over to the sofas.   
He nodded to the seat opposite him when Toby appeared and handed him one of the drinks. Toby looked at the speech sitting next to Bartlet and groaned.

“I made a similar noise when I read it,” Bartlet told him. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Groan?” Bartlet asked.

“No, read it.”

“Ah, yes, well the ship’s sailed on that one I’m afraid” He took a sip and relaxed back.   
“Would a game of chess help?”

Toby let out a small puff of laughter. “No, Mr President, I don’t believe it would.”

“Leo told me he talked to Sam yesterday. He said Sam sounded well.” Bartlet reached for his glass and took another sip. “Leo’s got this thing about not visiting Sam or pressuring him about when he’s going to come back.”

Toby just nodded. He had a feeling he was going to like what the President was going to say.  
“Leo can be a very stubborn man. No, not stubborn, tenacious.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t get me wrong, tenacious can be good. It’s Leo tenacity that got me here.” Bartlet stood and brought the bottle back to the sofa. Toby watched as he topped up their glasses. “Leo thinks we should wait for Sam to decide when he’s ready to come back.”

Toby nodded as he reached for his glass. “Claire thinks that too.”

“They’re probably right.” Bartlet took a long sip of his drink. “Moms know.”

“Know what, sir?”

“Their sons.”

“Ah.”

“But we know Sam too. We know him, Toby, and I can’t help feeling that he might be in need of a gentle nudge.”

“A nudge?”

“Just a gentle one.” 

“Have you thought about how this ‘nudge’ might be delivered, Mr President?”

“Well no, I’m more of an ideas man.”

Toby chuckled softly as he shook his head. “So what you’re saying, if I can summarise, is that you believe we shouldn’t wait until Sam feels he’s ready, you think he needs a gentle nudge but you want someone else to work out how to actually, you know, do the nudge because you’re an ideas man?”

“That’s about it. Oh, and your writing sucks at the moment.”

“Yeah, obviously I missed that bit out.”

“Obviously.” Bartlet held up his glass. “To the return of Sam Seaborn!”

Toby smiled as their glasses chinked. He only hoped the President was right about Sam’s return because one thing was certain, he wouldn’t last another week in the job without him.

Josh peered groggily at his phone, pager and alarm before working out that the buzzing noise was coming from his door. It was Saturday evening and he had gone to bed for a much-needed early night. He pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants, tripping over his backpack on his way. He opened the door squinting at Toby who stood in the harsh light of the corridor. “Toby,” he said groggily.

“Josh.” Toby walked past him and into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m making you coffee and then you’re going to pack. We’re going on a trip.”

“A trip? Wait, it’s Sam isn’t it, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Get dressed. I’ll fix some...” Toby opened two cupboard doors, “get dressed,” he repeated, his plan of making something abandoned on seeing the empty shelves. He waited while Josh splashed some water on his face and then took the coffee into the living room. 

“We’re going to get Sam,” Toby announced as he passed Josh his cup.

“Get Sam what?”

“God give me strength. We’re not going to get Sam anything. We’re going to get Sam.”

“Are we going to abduct him?”

“We’re acting on the orders of the President.” 

Toby told Josh about his conversation with Bartlet. When he’d finished Josh stood and went into his bedroom. A few moments later he reappeared with a packed bag. “Let’s go.”

“We’ve got a couple of hours.” Toby watched as Josh dropped the bag like a child being told a trip to Disneyland had been cancelled. “Well, I suppose we could head out now and get something to eat at the airport.”

Josh did a quick scan of the apartment, unplugged the TV and the coffee machine and then lifted his bag once more. He held the door open for Toby who walked slowly through it. He knew he had to set a slow pace if his nerves were going to survive the next few hours with Josh. “You’ve had that bag packed ready haven’t you?” he asked as Josh locked the door.

“I was waiting for your seven day deadline but yeah, I’d pretty much planned to go out there no matter what you decided.”

Josh glanced down at Toby’s bag. “When was your bag packed?”

“Two weeks ago,” Toby confessed. 

The two men set off down the corridor, both wearing equally sheepish smiles.


	39. Chapter 39

The muggy air had closed in on Josh and Toby as soon as they had stepped off the plane. Toby pulled at his collar as they entered the hotel lobby. He was longing for the bed in the air-conditioned hotel room he had booked but conceded to a quick nightcap even though he suspected Josh had no desire to sleep and would want to spend the night planning what they were going to do the next day.

Sitting on the bed, Toby removed his shoes, another subtle hint that he was getting ready to sleep but Josh was oblivious to it. “We should probably phone him first. Then again, if we phone and he doesn’t-”

“Josh, just stop! We can’t plan for this. It will play out how it will and we’ll either be getting on a flight on Monday with Sam or we won’t so, you know, just stop, okay?”

“Okay.” Josh stood, quietened by Toby’s words and suddenly aware of just how tired his friend looked. “I’ll see you in the morning. What time-”

“When we wake up.”

“Good plan,” Josh agreed. He knew they’d both probably wake at six but the thought of being able to stay in bed until later was an extremely enticing one. He left Toby’s room and went to his own, he fell asleep moments after pulling the covers over himself.

“Have you got his hat?”

“Yes.”

“And his little bag, did you pick that up?”

“Yes!”

“Make sure you stop on the way, he gets sick if you don’t stop -”

“Mom! I’ve got Billy’s hat, sunscreen, juice and backpack. I haven’t got Billy. Where is he?”

“He’s changing his top.” Claire crossed her arms and studied Sam. “You sure you’re up to this?”

“I am. I’m up to this. I have dealt with congressmen, shipping magnates and Ainsley Hayes, I think I can manage a whale watching trip with a six-year-old.”

Claire reached up and placed her hand on Sam’s face. “My dear, sweet Sam, in about five hours you’ll be eating those words.”

Sam laughed. “Your faith in me is overwhelming.” He looked over his mom’s shoulder to see Billy tearing from the house and towards his car and he felt a sudden wave of panic at the sight of the highly excited child but then, not wanting to eat his words just yet, he plastered a grin on his face and told Billy to jump in. He let Claire strap the squirming child into the car seat and listened to her last-minute instructions. He smiled as he remembered her saying the same things to him as a child. “Have fun!” was her last advice as Sam pulled off, waving through the window.

Josh and Toby had finished breakfast but were still sitting in the hotel restaurant. Toby was on the phone to Leo and Josh was reading the newspaper. He had heard enough from Toby’s side of the call to sense Leo was not happy. 

“Leo’s not happy,” Toby confirmed.

“He’ll be happy, when Sam’s back in his office on Monday. Well, happier, he’ll be happier.”

“He was unhappy with you mostly.”

“Me! This was your idea. The President played a part as well.”

Toby drained the last of his coffee and stood. “I spoke to Leo last night and told him it was your idea.” He walked away from the table. 

“Oh okay. What? Wait a minute!” He shot up to follow Toby and saw him disappear behind the elevator doors.

“Sam, can I tell you something?”

“Yup.”

“I need to go.”

“We just had quite the stop back there, Billy. You didn’t need to go then?”

“I did but I forgot.”

“Well I’ve had a few problems with my memory recently but I never forgot when I needed to go to the restroom.” Sam sighed and thought ahead to where the next stop was.

“Did you forget your name?” Billy asked.

“For a while?”

“Did you forget where you lived?”

“Yeah, only for a few-”

“And did you…did you forget what you looked like?”

“No, I looked in the mirror.”

“And did you forget what your-”

“Okay, how about some music?” Sam switched on the radio and flicked through the stations. They travelled in silence for a few moments. 

“Sam, can I tell you something?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered a slight note of trepidation in his tone.

“When you didn’t forget to go, did you sometimes nearly not remember and sometimes nearly not make it?”

“Do I need to pull over?” 

“I’m nearly not making it.”

“Oh God,” Sam sighed as he started to look for a safe place to pull in.

“So, what’s the plan?” Josh asked.

“I’m thinking,” Toby answered.

Josh nodded thoughtfully and waited. “Are you thinking about how Leo’s going to feel when I tell him you lied to him?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should phone Claire before -”

“Josh! I’m trying to formulate a plan of action. This is not something I can do with you babbling on.”

“Well fine. I’ll go and babble over there to that woman in the yellow bikini.”

“Just sit there and shut up and let me think!”

Josh sat still for a few moments. He tied and then untied the lace on his sneaker. He pulled at a thread on a button on his shirt and then trapped the button under his foot when the thread unravelled causing it to ping off. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Toby announced that he had a plan and Josh watched as he pulled out his phone.  
“Hi Claire, it’s Toby Zieglar…I’m good. Thanks...no, I’m not at work…yeah it does make a change! I’m at home.”

Josh shot a puzzled frown at Toby but he held up his hand to indicate he should wait and listen.

“Is Sam there? Oh, okay. Will he be in later…all day? No, I’ll phone later then.”

Josh listened in as Toby ended the call. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say we were here? What’s the point of coming to get Sam if we’re not going to tell Sam we’re here?” Josh was standing, hands on hips.

“Sit down,” Toby ordered and waited whilst Josh sat and blew out his frustration in a huge sigh. “Sam told me once about how you got him to join the campaign. How you turned up out of the blue and got him thinking about the ‘real thing’ again.” 

Josh was surprised that Sam had shared the story with Toby and he smiled at the memory of them walking along the sidewalk in New York.

“He said that from the moment you left that day, everything he’d thought about his life at that point was turned upside down. When you turned up again, he didn’t think twice about leaving that room and going with you because he’d spent the last few days thinking about nothing else.” Josh held his own memories of those few days and it was fascinating to hear Sam’s account. “How do you think things would have played out if you’d phoned Sam first to tell him you were coming or maybe you phoned but he was out and it was left to Lisa to tell him?”

Josh made a sound that he found he always made when Lisa’s name was mentioned. “Okay, well…this is good by the way, what you’re doing here, it’s like California’s bringing out your inner psychoanalyst. Okay, if I’d phoned Sam he would have told me he was about to make partner at Gage and get married. If I’d phoned Lisa she’d have had Sam on the first plane out of New York.”

“Exactly. He’d have had time to think about it. We’re doing the nudge thing. This is all about his gut, his true reaction. When he sees us he’ll know straight away why we’re here and we’ll know straight away how he feels about that.”

“I’m taking back the psychoanalyst thing. That’s a good plan. I’m not above admitting when I hear a good plan that isn’t, you know, one of mine. So, where to?”

“Claire said Sam was out and would be out until late this evening. Leo told me Sam was planning on working on his boat this weekend. You know where Sam keeps his boat.”  
“I do. Let’s go.” 

“Did you…well, erm...did you forget what food tastes like?”

“No.”

“Did you forget your favourite colour?”

“No.”

“Did you-”

“Hey! We’re here!” If Sam had thought seeing Wesley Police Station had been a relief it was nothing compared to how he felt on seeing the exit sign for Dana Point Harbor. He pulled into the parking lot and found a spot that he figured would be in the shade in a few hours and then helped Billy out of the car making sure they had all their things. “Look out whales because we’re coming to watch you!” he said as he took Billy’s hand and led him to the boat. “Now we need to hustle here because we want to get to the top deck.”

“Okay.” Billy said as he skipped alongside Sam trying to keep up. They joined the queue and Sam told Billy yet again about the Gray Whales migration. Billy responded by asking if they were going to eat their lunch on the boat. 

If Josh had turned right he would have found himself walking by the end of the queue for the boat but he hadn’t turned right, he’d turned left.

“Do you actually know where we’re going?” Toby asked. He stopped suddenly. “I’ve got sand in my shoes! We have even been on the beach and I’ve got sand in my shoes. How does that happen?”

Josh was grateful for Toby’s distraction as he didn’t have a clue where they were or how to get to Sam’s boat. He was just about to admit as much to Toby when he saw a sign for Dana West Marina. He waited for Toby to finish shaking sand from his shoe and then led the way once more.

“Sam’s boat is here somewhere,” Josh said as both men looked out at the rows of boats moored alongside the countless slips. 

“Can you narrow it down a little there?”

“I could if I could remember the slip number. We need to find a Harbour Master. A master of the harbour is what we need.”

Toby took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his forehead, he then shook his foot to dislodge the remnants of sand and finished the routine by flapping his arms at a wasp that seemed to find his nose irresistible. 

“You really don’t do that well outdoors do you, Toby?”

“I’m an indoorsman,” Toby replied.

Josh nodded in agreement. He placed one hand on his hip and used the other to shield his eyes as he stared out along the rows of boats. “I remember it was definitely on this side and I’m pretty certain it was slip eighty something.” 

Toby looked around him and couldn’t see any sign of anyone who could help them. “What’s his boat called?”

Josh closed his eyes and then started to laugh quietly as he realised he couldn’t remember the name of the boat just as he hadn’t been able to remember the name of Sam’s law firm that rainy day in New York. 

Toby rolled his eyes and groaned and then set off at a brisk pace.

“It starts with a d!” Josh called helpfully after him.

Having hustled through the crowd successfully, Billy and Sam had a perfect spot on the top deck. Sam smiled as he watched Billy scanning the horizon through his binoculars and thought back to when his dad used to take him whale watching. Since those childhood trips he had been many times, once even with friends in kayaks. This trip was just as special as all the others. He closed his eyes and savoured the feel of the breeze and the sound of the water lapping against the boat’s bow. He knew in a little while the whales would be spotted and the atmosphere would shift from anticipation to excitement.

“I see them!” Billy’s voice caused everyone on the top deck to follow his finger and the boat’s guide’s voice came over the microphone. He sounded slightly annoyed that a child had spotted the whales before him but then began his commentary on their approach and behaviour unperturbed. “Awesome!” Billy beamed up at Sam. He had to admit it was pretty awesome. The whales came close to the boat almost seeming to perform for them. They peered over the deck rail as one of the whales went under the boat. Billy reached out his hand even though they were far too high for him feel the water that the whale was blowing out. Sam crossed his arms and lent on the rail. Billy was entranced by the whales’ antics and he absently patted Sam’s arm to get him to look. “I’m looking. Billy,” Sam told him. 

“Dandelion?” Josh suggested, “No, that’s lame for a boat. Dandy!”

“Really?” Toby asked.

“No. It’s definitely starts with d though.”

Toby flinched and then brushed a bug from his arm. “Well, the boats aren’t arranged alphabetically so that doesn’t really help.”

Josh let out a cry of frustration and then paced up and down a little before turning back to face Toby. “You need to make another plan because this one isn’t working.”

Toby put his hands in his pockets and considered Josh’s words. “Plan B is just to go to Sam’s house, unless you can suddenly remember the name of his boat.”

“Sam!”

“Well that doesn’t start with a d.”

“No, Sam’s over there, getting off that boat.”

Toby looked to where Josh was pointing and scanned the group of people. He could see a man who looked like Sam but he was holding a child’s hand. He was about to tell Josh he was seeing things when a woman stepped aside giving him a better view of the man who he could now clearly see was Sam. “Well, this is unexpected. It could also be a sign.”

“Yeah, it’s a sign that your plan sucked. Come on, let’s go see what sign we get from Sam.”


	40. Chapter 40

“I can make it go pop. Look!” Billy pushed all the air in the wrapper of his popsicle to one end and waited for the pop. “See. I can do that every time. That’s why they’re called popsicles.”

Sam was about to argue that he didn’t think it was, because wrappers like these ones didn’t exist when ice pops were first patented but then remembered he was talking to a six-year-old. “That’s exactly why,” he agreed and he pushed the air in his wrapper to the top. Billy looked up at him and laughed at the sound that was much louder than his.

Sam was so absorbed in the simple pleasure of eating an ice pop in the sun by the ocean that he didn’t notice Josh and Toby who were only a few feet away. It was only when he looked around for a trash can that he saw them. If he’d known his reaction was being studied so intently he would have made a better job of controlling his expression but confusion swiftly followed by surprise and then fleeting anger were easily readable on his face. He masked them quickly though with a confused smile as he grabbed Billy’s hand and walked towards Toby and Josh. “What are you doing here?”

“We erm…we were in the…” Josh gave up on his explanation.

“We’ve come to get you,” Toby stated.

“You’ve come to get me?” Sam asked. He was still holding onto Billy’s hand who was studying Toby intently.

“Yes. If you want to be precise, we came to nudge you, you know, in the right direction.”

“It’s a Presidential Nudge,” Josh added. 

Sam relaxed slightly and blew out a long breath. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you. It sort of threw me.”

“We can go if you want. Maybe meet up later?” Josh offered.

Sam blew out another breath but this one ended in a huff of laughter. “No, I don’t want you to go.” He finally let go of Billy’s hand as the three men hugged in greeting. 

Billy watched as he sucked the last of the ice pop from the stick. “Are they strangers?”

Sam groaned inwardly. A few days ago, Billy’s dad had talked to Billy about strangers and it was a subject that he was keen to continue discussing at any opportunity.

“No, Billy. This is Toby and this is Josh.” He placed his hand on Billy’s back. “This is my godson, Billy.”

“So do I know them now?”

“Well, I know them so they’re not strangers to me.”

“But I don’t so they’re still strangers for me, right?”

Sam rubbed at his forehead. “They were strangers when you didn’t know that I knew them but now you know I know them, you know them as well. A stranger is someone you don’t know and the people you’re with don’t know.”

Billy chewed on his lollipop stick and squinted up at his godfather in frustration. “But Sam, are they strangers or not!”

“Not,” Sam replied. He knew without looking that Toby and Josh were enjoying the exchange immensely. “Come on let’s walk along the beach.” He knew that would knock the grin from Toby’s face at least.

“We went whale watching,” Sam said to no one in particular as they walked along the beach. 

“Did you enjoy that, Billy?” Josh asked.

“Yeah. They went under the boat and Sam said that once a whale went under a boat and then lifted the boat up on its back and everyone fell out.” He looked up at Josh. “And they drowned,” he added.

“Did Sam tell you all about whales and migration?”

“Yeah. He told me lots of stuff, but mostly I didn’t listen.” Josh laughed out loud and Toby hid his smile by turning towards the ocean. 

Sam bent to pick up a shell and handed it to Billy who put it in his pocket. “We should get moving. Billy’s dad’s picking him up in an hour.” 

Josh didn’t know if Sam’s ‘we’ meant him and Billy or all of them. The four stopped walking and nobody seemed to know what to say.

“Are Toby and Josh going?” Billy asked.

Sam smiled as he realised the child in the group had voiced the question none of the adults could ask. “No, they’re coming back to Claire’s with us.”

That decided, they changed course to head back to the parking lot. “Do you know my dad?” Billy asked as they walked. Josh replied that they didn’t. “So he’s a stranger, right?” 

“Josh will explain it to you,” Sam said and he clapped Josh on the back as he rushed ahead to walk with Toby.

Claire greeted Toby and Josh as if she had been expecting them and Toby realised Leo would have phoned Claire to warn her of their visit. He wondered why she hadn’t called Sam to tell him and made a mental note to ask her later. She ushered them all into the kitchen where some sandwiches were waiting. Billy’s chatter about his day out provided no opportunity for silence, awkward or otherwise. He told Claire in great detail about the whales and to Sam’s secret delight, included a number of the facts Sam had told him.

Josh and Toby remained in the kitchen when Billy’s dad arrived. Claire started clearing the table and suggested they went into the living room. “I’m going out tonight so you’ll have time to talk.” She took the pile of plates that Toby had cleared. “Leo phoned this afternoon and told me what you were planning. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it but I do know that your intentions are good. I didn’t tell Sam because for whatever reason, you’d obviously decided surprising him was the way to go.” She nodded again towards the door to the living room. “I’ll bring some coffee in.” They were almost through the door when she spoke again. “He’s ready. I don’t know if he knows he is, but he’s ready to come back.” 

“We won’t push,” Toby assured her.

“But we may nudge,” Josh added and he returned Claire’s smile before following Toby to the room next door.

Toby looked at the photos on the mantelpiece while he waited for Sam. Josh was sat on the sofa staring at the floor. Sam came into the room with his mom. He took the tray of coffee from her and she left, closing the door behind her.

Her exit was followed by silence. Sam handed out cups of coffee and then sat down on the sofa opposite the one Josh was sitting on. Toby looked between the two sofas and then decided on the chair between them. 

“Well, this is awkward,” Sam said and he sat back in his chair in an attempt to ease the tension in his shoulders. 

“Yes,” Josh agreed. “Are you pissed that we came?”

“No.”

“Because when you saw us you looked a little pissed I thought.”

“I was but it was fleeting. I’m surprised you came. What was that you said about a presidential nudge?”

Toby nodded towards Toby who explained. “The President wants you back. He suggested I come down here and,” Toby wobbled his elbow from side to side, “do the nudge.”

“Do the nudge?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, a gentle one.”

Sam sat forward and placed his cup on the coffee table. “Go on then.”

“What?”

“Nudge!”

“Oh! Okay. I’ve got this.” Josh stood and held his hand up to Toby. “Sam, Toby is falling apart without you.”

“Josh!” Toby cried and Josh apologised whilst exchanging a grin with Sam.

“The thing is, okay, this is the thing, just come back, Sam. There’s not going to be a perfect time and the longer you wait the less ready you’ll be. I know you’re scared-” Sam started to object but Josh cut him off. “I know you’re scared because you’ve come this far and you don’t know if you’ll get any further.” Sam nodded at Josh’s words. “You won’t find the answer watching whales.”

Sam nodded. “What about you, do you think I should come back?” he asked of Toby.

“I wrote fifteen drafts of the President’s remarks honouring the WNBA Basketball Champions.”

“Yikes!”

“Yeah and you know how I nailed it? I got a copy of your remarks for the NBA Champions and changed all the gender specific pronouns from male to female.”

Sam ducked his head as he laughed at Toby’s admission. “Well, okay then.” He stood and walked over to fetch a bottle of bourbon and three glasses. “We should drink a toast to my third return to the White House.”

Josh yelled a ‘yes’ and punched the air. Toby smiled and pulled two cigars from his pocket. Sam poured three glasses of bourbon and walked back to join his friends.


	41. Chapter 41

The first thing Sam did when he arrived home was to collect Nickleby from Mrs Steel. He prepared himself for total indifference to his arrival and was not disappointed. It was only later that evening when Nickleby finally forgave him for leaving him yet again and jumped up onto his lap. Purring loudly, the cat pawed at Sam’s sweater and then turned three circles before settling down on his lap. “Poor Nickleby,” Sam said as he stroked him. “I left you again. That was the last time. I promise. I’m home for good now.”

Sam returned to work the Wednesday after getting back to DC. His return was low-key and following a ten-minute meeting with Leo, he found himself sitting in Toby’s office reading through a pile of unfinished drafts. “This is the one that made the President groan,” Toby said as he handed Sam a copy of the speech that had caused Bartlet to tell Toby to get Sam back.   
“These are the comments I was going to use for the Detroit speech.” Toby placed another pile of paper on Sam’s lap. “And these are the notes the Colding Committee sent over for the-”

“I can only read one at a time!” Sam put all the papers back onto Toby’s desk and stood up. 

“Let’s go the Mess.”

“Why?”

“You know, stretch our legs, get the blood flowing.”

“My blood’s flowing fine; it’s my talent that’s dried up.”

“Toby, I know that coming to me when you’re at your most vulnerable must be hard but it’s time for the master to sit back and observe, for the student has-”

“If you’re going to say ‘become the master’ I would seriously reconsider it.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. “Go to the Mess, the student is going to the Mess.”

“That’s more like it,” Toby mumbled as he followed Sam from his office.

Sam worked until late on Wednesday and later still on Friday. Somewhere along the way, Toby found his talent. He would never admit it but he found it floating behind a soaring phrase of Sam’s and he grabbed hold of it and made it his own once more. By Friday, Sam was exhausted. He was aware he had worked for longer in the past two days than he had managed since his first return to work but he told himself that if he could just make it through Friday as well he would have proved to everyone that he was back, fitter and more able than ever. By Friday lunchtime he was asleep on Toby’s sofa.

Sam continued to push himself. He was grateful that his workload, whilst not as large as it used to be, was now made up of key speeches and remarks which he worked on alongside Toby. On his own, he completed reports and position papers for Leo and for Counsel’s Office. He found, to his immense pleasure, that the words had not left him and he could still craft them into sentences that could inspire and challenge those who read them. When he was writing he felt as close to the person he had been than at any other time. 

It was the other times that were becoming the problem. Sam had done little writing today. He’d spent the morning making calls and then spent the afternoon in a meeting. The meeting had ended abruptly and the reason why was what Toby was discussing with Josh whilst Sam waited on Toby’s sofa. He suspected CJ was there as well, maybe even Leo. He knew that he was going to have to face them at some point. He wondered if he should just go to Josh’s office and get it over with but just as he stood, Toby appeared shutting the door behind him. 

“Have you finished talking about me?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Have you finished insulting senators and then falling over?”

“I can’t make any promises, depends on the senator.”

Toby perched on the edge of his desk and looked at Sam.

Sam returned his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well to start with I think we need to be clear that it was Senator Cantwell, a man that most of us have insulted at one time or another. I would also like to point out that you left me alone in the meeting when it was pretty clear I wasn’t handling his views on tax relief too well.”

“Noted.”

Sam sagged back against the sofa and rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t really know what happened. I was listening to him and in my head I could hear all these salient points I could be making but his voice was like a…” 

“Like a what?”

“Like one of those toys you pull a cord on and it makes some inane comment in a voice that really has no place on a child’s play thing!” 

“Well that explains the remark you made about Cantwell having a cord attached to his ass.”   
“So, I said, well, I imagine the basic premise was that he was talking out of his ass and sounding not unlike an inane cord operated toy. I said that, and then I think I was going to leave the room but the room sort of left me, you know, ceiling where the floor was and vice versa.” Sam sat forward and studied his shoes. “What’s Cantwell going to do?”

Toby walked over and sat down next to Sam. “Humans rarely surprise me but one did today. Cantwell said to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon and he may be open to another meeting to discuss alternatives to some of your proposals.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think you collapsing in front of him had something to do with that. I mean, I don’t think it was just the cord in his ass comment.”

Sam smiled but it barely had time to form before he was frowning again. “Leo’s pissed?”

“No one’s mad at you, Sam.” Toby waited until Sam turned to look at him. “It was one of those things wasn’t it?”

“A decompensation, yeah, I think it was.” Sam sat back again and closed his eyes. “Shit, my head is splitting.” Sam knew Toby was going to take him to the hospital. He knew that when he’d felt himself being lifted and placed on a chair by Toby and Cantwell. It had taken him a while to come to but he’d seen enough exchanged worried glances and hushed conversations while he was, to know his afternoon was going to end in the ER. As he waited for Josh to drive him there, his headache worsened. Toby asked him if he had anything in his office he wanted to take home and when he replied that he wanted to take his camel Toby crouched down in front of him and asked him again. Sam repeated that he wanted to take his camel home. He meant his gym bag and couldn’t understand Toby’s look of confusion and concern that led to his quick exit from the room and was followed by Josh’s sudden arrival.

An hour later he was lying in a hospital bed trying to make the nurse understand that he was fine and wanted to go home. He quietened a little when Dr. Forbes arrived. Forbes had treated Sam recently for a headache and had issued quite a forceful warning about what would happen if he pushed himself at work. She stood at the end of his bed now, arms folded and tapping her fingers in a rhythm not unlike the one CJ performed when she was deciding how best to kill someone. Sam looked across at Josh but realised he was on his own. Josh seemed almost as angry as Dr Forbes.

“Sometimes patients come back for a totally unrelated condition. Sometimes I see them again for the same condition but through no fault of their own. Sometimes, despite advice and warnings served garnished on a bed of medical knowledge, they come back. You are one of those.”

“You’re quite scary,” Sam told her.

She pulled the chart from the bedrail and studied it before walking to the side of the bed. “You’re staying in here tonight. Decompensations are serious, Sam. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, forcing your recovery and your brain has told you to stop. Your body is learning how to compensate for your injury and it can’t do that if you’re pushing it to go beyond that. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“How bad is your head?”

“Very.”

She nodded and called out the name of a drug and a dosage to the nurse. Once she was satisfied that her patient had stopped demanding to go home, she left him and his harried looking companion alone. 

The drugs were taking effect quickly and Sam, unsure if Josh was still there, called out his name and grabbed for his hand. “Don’t let…Leo…don’t let him make me leave. I’m writing…writing’s good…it’s the other stuff.” His eyes closed and his hand slipped from Josh’s.

CJ and Toby met up with Josh after he left the hospital and were now sitting in a bar discussing the day’s events and more importantly, what they should do about them.

“Why has he got it into his head that Leo’s going to fire him?” Toby asked.

Josh shook his head in response and took a swig of beer.

“Sam’s right though, it’s the other stuff.” Toby leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “His writing is as good, often better, than it ever was but he can’t carry on like this.” 

Josh started to object but Toby held up his hand to silence him. “No, he can’t, Josh. We’re watching him struggle to get back to this notion he has of the man he was and, you know what, we’re letting him because we want him to get there too.”

“What’s so wrong with that? He can get there if we just-”

“He’s already there!” Toby yelled and then remembering where he was, continued in almost a whisper. “We’ve been going at this all wrong. He’s the man he was and we should be telling him that. He’s one of the brightest of his generation. His replacements while he was out were the finest political and writing talent available and not one of them came even close to what Sam is capable of. The Sam we knew before the accident was freakishly fit and had higher energy levels than any of us. That’s where he isn’t the man he was and that’s where we have to make the changes.”

Silence followed Toby’s words. Josh stared down at his drink and CJ stared equally intently at Toby. “That was a lot of words you just used there,” she said.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. 

“What changes?” Josh asked finally looking up.

“We’ve got a handle on all the avoidance stuff, you know, loud noises, crowds-”

“French accordion players,” CJ added.

A small smile graced Toby’s face. 

“What changes?” Josh persisted.

“For starters we should stop trying to think in terms of Sam eventually coming back fulltime.”

“He’ll never go for that,” Josh said.

“Four days a week. We know he’ll work at home but he can do it in his own time, without the noise and stress of the West Wing.”

“Toby, you need Sam there all the time,” CJ argued.

“I need Sam on top form when he is there.”

“What else?” Josh asked quietly.

“We up the number of assistants. We never replaced Cathy and we’ve coped fine but Sam needs his own assistant now. Ginger can be assigned to him and Bonnie to me and then one more for the general stuff, or the new person for Sam and Ginger for me, whatever.”

“Wow,” CJ said, “you’ve been doing some mulling, Tobus.”

“Yeah.” He looked across to Josh. “What do you think?”

“I think the assistant is an excellent idea. I think four days is a hard sell.”

“Working from home for one day,” Toby corrected.

“He won’t go for it.”

“We’ll see,” Toby replied. He drained his glass and stood and left CJ and Josh to do some mulling of their own.

Sam was dressed and sitting on the hospital bed waiting to be discharged. He was not overly surprised to see Toby walk into his room with a bag of bagels and two takeout cups of coffee. “I thought you might need a ride home,” Toby explained as he placed the bag on the bed and handed Sam a cup. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the lid from the cup and breathed in the aroma before replacing it and taking a long sip. “I’m just waiting on some meds.”

Toby nodded and sat down. He waited as a doctor arrived with medication and care instructions and he listened to the explanation of what should happen if Sam experienced another decompensation. He drove in silence to Sam’s apartment and when they arrived he asked if Sam felt like company. Sam said he did because he knew Toby was working up to talking to him about something.

Once inside, Sam put some coffee on and went for a shower. Toby was waiting again but he was happy to wait. It gave him time to work out what he was going to say. The bagels were still in the bag so he put them on a plate and poured two cups of coffee and settled down in the living room. Sam emerged from his room looking much better for his shower and shave and he picked up his second cup of coffee of the morning gratefully. He sat down opposite Toby. “Just tell me whatever it is that you want to tell me, Toby, because I’m imagining quite a few scenarios here none of which are good.”

“One of which is that Leo wants to fire you.”

“No it isn’t!” Sam declared. “Why, does he?”

Toby smiled. “No, Sam, he doesn’t and I don’t know why you’ve got that going around your head.”

“I haven’t, not really, not when I’m thinking straight.”

“Are you thinking straight now?”

“As an arrow.”

“Good, because I’ve going to make some suggestions about how we move forward.”

Sam reached down absently to stroke Nickleby as he walked by. “Move forward. What are we moving forward from?”

Toby instantly regretted his choice of words. “What I need you to do here is just listen.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” Sam sat back in his chair and signalled to Toby to begin. Nickleby chose that moment to leap up onto his lap. “We’re listening,” Sam amended.

Nickleby gave up listening halfway through and jumped from Sam’s lap. Sam continued to listen intently. When Toby had finished, Sam stood and went into the kitchen. Toby wasn’t sure whether he should follow or not so he remained on the sofa. Sam returned and walked over to him. “Would it be the same four days each week?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Sam returned to the kitchen. A few moments later he reappeared. “What if something happens and you need me there when I’m at home?”

“Well, I’d call you in and you’d take a different day. I’m not saying I won’t need you to-”

“Okay, okay,” Sam waved his hand signalling he understood and left the room. He returned again moments later. “Same job title?”

“I’m not answering that one.”

“Right.” Another trip to the kitchen and then, “Do I get to pick the assistant?”

“Yes. Can you please stay in this room I’m getting dizzy?”

“Oh! Okay. Sorry.” Sam sat down and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “This isn’t to appease Leo?”

“Damn it, Sam, will you stop it with the Leo firing you thing!”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. That just crept in there.” He relaxed back against the chair and nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll drop down to four days a week and I’ll take an assistant.”

There were many ways that Toby had imagined this conversation would end and Sam agreeing without any protest wasn’t one of them. “As easy as that?”

“Well, isn’t it? Did you think I was going to kick and scream?”

“Yeah, a little.”

Sam’s smile faded at Toby’s words. “Thanks for the ride and coffee. I’m going to go lie down now.”

Toby stood, taken aback by Sam’s sudden shift in mood he wasn’t sure if he should offer to stay or not but Sam was already walking towards his bedroom and so he grabbed his coat and let himself out of the apartment. He thought about calling Josh to tell him of Sam’s reaction to his ideas but decided against it. He wasn’t entirely sure what Sam’s reaction had been.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-two 

Bonnie was waiting in Sam’s doorway holding his coat and bag. She had been waiting for five minutes. “Toby said you weren’t allowed to be here when he came back,” she warned him.

“You know, for a look-out you’re not very good at blending into your surroundings.”

“Just hurry up. You said you were going home twenty minutes ago. Anyway, you’re not the one who’ll have to put up with Toby’s wrath.”

“Toby doesn’t have a wrath.” Sam cocked his head as he considered his words. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Sam!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going.” He took his belongings from Bonnie and then saw Toby walking into the bullpen. He pulled Bonnie so she was standing in front of him. Toby walked past them and into his office. “Do you think he saw me?” Sam asked.

“I’m going to count to ten,” Toby called.

“He saw you,” Bonnie said as she pushed Sam in the direction of the exit.

Once home, Sam fed Nickleby and made himself a sandwich. He then settled down to his laptop but couldn’t concentrate so he decided to phone Josh.

“What’s going on?” 

“You mean since you left less than two hours ago?” Josh asked smiling. “Well, Donna got a salad from the Mess but then took it back because the carrot looked too orange, CJ held a briefing most of the comments for which you wrote. What else, oh yeah, Toby asked Bonnie to find a copy of the Drayton Report but she-”

“Okay, okay, you can stop doing that now.” There was a pause. “Did Donna get another salad?”

“Sam! Go and chill, take a nap, read a book, whatever. Just forget about work. There’s nothing going on but I promise if there’s something big I’ll send you a secret email.”

“Will you?”

“Yes!”

“Well, okay then.” Sam hung up and went to his bedroom. He found the book he was reading under the bed and then lay down on the covers. He mumbled about being sent home and not needing a midday nap. He was asleep before he had finished a page. 

Sam continued to work his four days. On one occasion he had swapped his day after being called back in and one week saw him working all five days. Sam had spent that weekend in bed and was late in the following Monday. He told Toby that he’d been sailing and ignored the knowing look on Toby’s face.

Ainsley’s old office remained a place of sanctuary for him and although others continued to use it, it was an unspoken rule that you left if Sam needed the room. Sam was in there now. The first three days of another four-day week had not gone well and the fourth was going just as badly. Josh had snuck there during his lunch hour to get a few minutes peace from Donna who, for reasons known only to her, had decided to reorganise her filing system. 

“Hey! Sorry man, I didn’t know you were down here,” Josh said as he opened the door to find Sam lying on the sofa.

“It’s okay. I was just going back up,” Sam said although he looked far from ready to go back to work.

“No, stay. I’m only hiding from Donna.”

Sam laughed as he sat up. “Why?” 

“Just Donna being Donna.” He came and sat beside Sam and studied his friend. Something warned him off commenting on Sam’s obvious state of exhaustion. “You going up then? I’ll walk with you.”

Sam nodded and followed Josh out of the room and started slowly up the stairs.

“How’s the four-day week going?” Josh asked as they started on the second flight.

Sam shrugged. “Okay. I’m not saying it hasn’t helped but it’ll be good to get back to a normal week.” Realising that Josh had stopped walking, Sam stopped and turned back to look at him. “What?”

“No, nothing, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I thought that was a permanent thing, sort of, for a while anyway.”

“Sort of for a while.” Sam started up the stairs. “That describes the arrangement perfectly.” He had reached the corridor now and quickly changed the subject by asking again what Donna was up to. Josh replied but only half-heartedly. His mind was now focused on getting to Toby and telling him that he might have to rethink his assessment of Sam’s compliance with his plan.

Toby listened to Josh as he told him his concerns. He kept an eye out for Sam who had gone to the Mess and shooed Josh away when he saw Sam return. He gave Josh a parting look to signal that he had everything under control. Josh nodded once in reply but didn’t think for a moment it was going to be that simple.

“Where are you with the B9 memos?” Toby asked as he entered Sam’s office.

“They’re done.” Sam lifted a pile of papers from his desk and handed them over. “There’re some notes on the Hadley Forum in there as well.”

“Good.” Toby squeezed the red ball in his hand and walked closer to the desk. “Thanks for the Hadley stuff. I know this week has been tough.”

“No tougher than usual.”

“Sure, apart from the two lockdowns, saving the Education Bill, rewriting the Detroit speech in the light of Grave’s resignation, your new assistant being off sick and the network going down.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Sam smiled then shrugged. “We’ve had worse weeks.”

“Yeah.” Toby shuffled closer to the desk. “You used to wear them better though.” 

Sam pulled off his glasses and sighed. “Okay, let’s…” He took a deep breath but it only seemed to inflate his sudden anger rather than calm him. “There’re a lot of things I used to do. I used to walk into a crowded room and not have to look for the nearest exit in case I freaked out, I used to find the words I wanted like they were just floating there above me and I used to work all day without feeling so tired that I wanted to throw up by the end of it.” Having finished, Sam was surprised to find he was standing and Toby was standing closer to him than he remembered with his hands held up in a calming gesture. Sam glanced at the window and saw curious staffers staring in and realised that he must have been shouting. “Great!” he said as he collapsed back into his chair. “And I used to be able to disagree with you without leaving you bespattered with uncontrollable rage.

“And you say the words are gone.”

“I meant the everyday words. Like when I go to the Mess to grab a coffee and ask for a cushion.”

“That doesn’t happen that often.”

“It happens all the time, Toby. I don’t know I’m doing it. I only knew I’d said cushion because Doris actually went off and fetched me a cushion.”

“What did you do?”

“I thanked her and took it.” He pointed beside his desk. Toby leant forward and saw a cushion lying on the floor. “Well, it could have been worse. I mean, when you think of what you could have asked Doris for.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed as he rubbed at his face. “You know what the funny thing is? I can’t even remember what you said that got me mad now.”

Toby briefly thought of pretending he couldn’t either as he returned to his seat but he sat and waited for Sam to do the same. “I said you used to wear the tougher weeks better.” 

The words which had provoked such a strong reaction in Sam now went without comment. He picked up a file and opened it. “I need to get on with this. I’ll have something for you by the end of the day.”

“Or, you could admit that you’re dead on your feet and go home.”

“I’m working to a deadline here. If you want this draft finished you should probably go back to your office and let me get on with it.”

Toby stood and put his hands in his pockets. Sam was kicking him out but he’d go when he was ready. He stood and watched his deputy for a while. He looked at Sam’s shaking hand that picked up the pencil and then hovered without purpose over the paper. He looked at the tight lines around his eyes that exposed the pain of a headache. He looked at the rigid set of his shoulders and the tension that sat there. He was looking, he decided, at a man who was going to either explode or implode and he was going to do it soon. 

The following morning Toby wasn’t at all surprised to see Sam arrive just after seven. He was irritated but not surprised. He knew going next door to tell him to go home would be a disastrous move. He thought fleetingly of asking Leo to order Sam out of the West Wing but then winced as he imagined how that scenario might play out. Instead, he stayed in his office and decided to let his deputy play his game but without providing an audience.

Sam was relieved that Toby hadn’t come to question his appearance at work. He had noticed Toby closing his door and, in a move that he knew was nothing but childish, he did the same. Only a few moments later it was opened by a surprised Josh.

“It was you,” he said by way of greeting. “I thought I saw you in the lobby. Why are you in?”

“I want to tie-up a few loose ends for the Hadley thing.”

“Toby said that was done.”

Sam bristled a little at the suspicion that Toby must have told Josh about yesterday. “What else did he tell you when you two had your little chat?”

“Jesus, Sam, what’s going on with you?” 

The sharp words made Sam look up at his friend and he immediately wanted to grab his own words back. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Yeah. So?” Josh folded his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. I’ve slept, I’ve eaten, I’m fine. Everything’s good.” He hadn’t slept at all and he had skipped breakfast. 

“What you said the other day, you know, about the four-day thing not being permanent-”

“I don’t remember that,” Sam said quickly. He was looking down now. 

“Okay.” 

Sam kept his gaze on his work and waited for Josh to leave. 

“One o’clock, you and me, lunch,” Josh ordered as his parting shot and accepted Sam’s nod and mumbled reply as confirmation of the arrangement.

“Well what the hell do these say?” an exasperated Leo asked as he showed Margaret another picture. She peered at the bouquet on the internet site and then straightened.

“They say ‘I enjoy your company but I’m not ready to commit’.”

“They’re a bunch of flowers for crying out loud!” Leo studied the picture wondering exactly what it was Margaret could see. 

“Maybe it will help if you write the message first?” She had her notebook and pencil at the ready.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that won’t help. I’m sending these.” He clicked decisively on his chosen bouquet. He looked up at Margaret. “I think I’ve got this now.”

“Would you like me to help you with the wording?”

“You’ve been quite a help already, Margaret.” He turned back to the laptop and started to type his message. To Claire- Can you get over here for a few days next week? It would be great to have some time together. Leo.

One o’clock came and went without Josh managing to get away to meet Sam for lunch. He was held up in a meeting and then on a phone call and so Sam ate a banana and a doughnut at his desk instead. Toby was in meetings all morning and Ginger was helping Donna put her filing system back to how it had been and so that left only Bonnie in the Bullpen. She had put three calls through to Sam and had knocked on his door as many times during the course of the morning but the absence of Ginger had kept her attention diverted away from him. This meant that Sam had pretty much been left alone for most of the day. He had enjoyed the peace and solitude. His plan to stay all week and make Toby change his mind about the four-day scheme was going well. 

A casual observer would have commented that it didn’t seem to be going all that well though. The fact that Sam was clearly only just able to keep upright would have been the first indication. Listening to his telephone calls would have also backed up the opinion that things could be going better. The pile of screwed up balls of paper lying alongside the upturned trashcan and the coffee leaking onto the carpet from the broken cup would have also added to the impression of things not going well at all.

For his part, Sam was unaware of the state of his office. He knew he had dropped a cup but the wave of dizziness that had caused it to slip from his fingers had made him incapable of dealing with it and he had since forgotten all about it. He had a vague niggling feeling that he needed to apologise to someone he had spoken to on the phone earlier but he couldn’t remember who or why so he decided it can’t have been that important. His head was pounding and his stomach was now rolling in sympathy with every beat but, he told himself, that’s the price you pay for working in a place as stressful as the White House. He swallowed back the nausea, blinked until the room stilled and then got back to what he was writing. 

Ginger had returned and she and Donna were warning Bonnie of the perils of trying to reorganise a perfectly good filing system. All three looked up in surprise when Sam flung his door open and stared at them for a few seconds. A frown of confusion creased his forehead.   
“Who have I spoken to today?”

“You’ve been in your office for most of it,” Bonnie answered.

“No, I mean on the phone. Who have I spoken to on the phone?”

“Oh, well you took a call from Senator Coburn this morning and then one from Mark Doyle, then the First Lady’s office spoke to you about-”

“Did Mark Doyle call back?” 

“After he’d spoken to you?”

“Yes! After I spoke to him, did he call back?” 

Bonnie said that he hadn’t. She spoke softly. She was going to suggest that Sam lie down in Toby’s office but Sam slammed his door shut. Donna had already gone to get Josh. Ginger went to search for Toby. 

Josh arrived first. He knocked on Sam’s door and went straight in. He quickly took in the state of the room and performed an equally short and accurate assessment of Sam’s state. Sam was standing behind his desk his hands on his hips so Josh remained standing on the other side of it. “What’s going on?” Josh asked repeating his question from earlier in the day.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. I spoke to someone, earlier, on the phone, and I think I may have said something, or I hung up on them or something, I don’t know, but I was trying to find out.”

“Is that what you were asking Bonnie?” 

“When?”

“Just now, is that what you were asking Bonnie about?”

Sam frowned at Josh as if he was asking a trick question. “I asked her if anyone phoned back. I was thinking if someone was pissed they would phone back and then I’d know.”

“Did they?”

“What?”

“Did any of the people you spoke to call back?”

“Bonnie didn’t… I don’t think she knew.”

“Okay.” Josh bent down and picked up one of the discarded sheets of paper. Usually the notes Sam threw away would be like gold dust to an aspiring speechwriter but this one held little more than doodles and nonsensical phrases. “Okay,” Josh repeated. “What happened to your mug?”

Sam looked down to where Josh was pointing and looked surprised to see the smashed mug and coffee stained carpet. “It broke,” he explained feebly.

“Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll take you home.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly four o’clock.”

Sam shook his head. “No then.” He sat down at his desk and pulled his laptop towards him knocking his glasses and a book to the floor in the process.

Josh took the chair opposite. “Well what would be a good time for you? Because if you want, we can wait until you’ve broken another mug or completed another twenty sheets of doodles?”

“Don’t, Josh.”

“Well stop then, Sam! Stop trying to prove to Toby that you can handle being here five days a week. Stop trying to pretend that everything’s okay.”

“I’m not!”

“Not what?”

“What?”

“Not what? Come on, Sam, I asked you what it is you’re not doing.”

“I’m not…”

“What, what are you not doing?”

“I’m not pretending to prove…I’m not proving…” 

When Toby heard Josh’s hand slam onto the desk he took a step closer to Sam’s office but remained outside of the room.

Sam pulled at his tie and then ran his hand through his hair. “You’re confusing me!” 

“Yeah? I think the not sleeping and your stubborn refusal to admit when you’re beat is what’s confusing you.”

“Fuck you!” Sam shouted and Josh moved quickly to stop him from getting to the door. Sam saw Toby on the other side of it though and changed course to the window. “Fuck you,” Sam repeated but it was almost a whisper.

“It’s okay to admit you’re tired, Sam.”

Toby had predicted that Sam would either explode or implode. He hadn’t imagined that Sam would do both but that was the only description he could think of for what happened next. Sam sprung over to his desk and in one movement of his outstretched arm swept the contents of it onto the floor. He stood still for a few moments and then as quickly as he had moved to the desk, he dropped to the floor. 

The sound of the door being opened stirred Josh into action. He moved behind the desk and down to the floor. Toby remained by the door which he had closed quietly behind him.  
“I am tired,” Sam admitted. He was sitting with his knees pulled up before him and his hands covering his face. Between the muffled voice and the increasing sobs, Josh was finding it difficult to understand what he was saying. “I’m tired of trying…to be who I was…when…before… I’m tired of that.” Josh tried to move Sam’s hands away from his face but he turned away from him. “Just go away, Josh…and you,” Sam said of Toby who was hovering on the other side of the desk. “You were right…I’m not up to it…not the tough…tougher weeks …not any week…too tough, too long…too much.”

“Sam, come and lie down in my office,” Toby said. 

“I told you…told you to go away.” He wiped furiously at his eyes. “Lie down, have a rest…go to sleep. Fuck it!” 

Josh flinched at the sound of Sam’s fist hitting the leg of the desk. He pulled Sam’s hand down so he could do no more damage to it. “Let me take you home,” he offered.

“You were right…I’m trying to prove…” 

Josh gently pulled Sam’s head up so he was facing him. 

“You were right,” Sam repeated.

“Yeah, I never tire of hearing that.”

“Yeah.” Sam took a huge, shaky breath in and let it out slowly. “Right about me trying to prove to Toby...is he still here?”

Josh nodded.

“I was trying to prove you wrong, Toby, I didn’t want this to be as far as I could get. But it is.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. “This is as far as I’m going to get and I have to accept that.”

“For now. It’s as far as you’re going to get for now.” Toby’s tone brooked no room for argument. He walked around the desk and came and sat next to Josh.

Sam wiped at his eyes again and took another deep breath. “For now. Maybe it’s far enough.”

“You still breathing was far enough for me.” Josh said and waited for Sam to look at him again. “At first, that was the goal and then it was moving your hand, opening your eyes, knowing who we were, remembering who you were and then coming back to work. You’ve got it all turned around, Sam. It’s how far you’ve come that’s the incredible thing. You don’t remember those first few weeks. God, I was desperate to know that you were going to come back to us.” Josh didn’t need to worry about Sam not looking at him now; he was staring intently at him. “I was visiting the most intelligent man I know and he was giving me pictures he’d drawn of Apollo 11.” 

Toby leaned forward. “I was just happy if you called me Toby.” 

Sam smiled and then let his head fall back against the cabinet behind him. “Ow!”

“So, what I’m saying is, if you could remember all that stuff you’d be amazed as we are that you’ve got this far. I think what you also have to remember is that you were pretty much a freak of nature before the accident so you’re probably just now discovering what it’s like for the rest of us.”

“You could work through the night and still look like you were on your way to a photo shoot for GQ magazine the next morning,” Toby agreed. 

Sam had stopped crying. He had stopped rambling and he had stopped shaking. There was really no reason for them to still be on the floor but they stayed there, half hidden behind the desk. Eventually Toby started to stand but only because he knew that if he didn’t he would be stuck in his current position. Sam watched as he rose, groaning and mumbling as he did so.   
Josh got up as slowly, but with less groans as Toby had, and held out his hand for Sam.  
“I think I’ll stay for a while. It’s not so bad. I’ve got a cushion back here somewhere.” 

“Come on.” Josh kept his hand out until Sam reached up to take it. It took both Josh and Toby to help him to the sofa. The experience had drained him of the last of his strength. He could feel Toby’s hand gripping his arm and hear Josh’s voice. He felt a hand loosening his tie and then, finally, he felt nothing at all.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-three 

Josh juggled the beer bottle, bag of chips and peanut butter sandwich only just managing to keep them all upright until he reached Sam’s sofa. He loved Sam’s sofa, he loved Sam’s TV and he loved the fact that Sam always had chips and beer in his kitchen. He balanced his food and drink on a cushion, put his feet up on the coffee table and then turned the volume up slightly on the college football game he was watching.

Sam had been asleep for four hours. After waking on Toby’s sofa he had been driven home. He’d managed to stir enough to walk to his apartment and get undressed before succumbing once more to exhaustion. Since then, Josh had been very considerate. He had made sure the television’s volume was low and he’d been as quiet as he could be whilst exploring the contents of Sam’s kitchen cupboards. He was halfway through the bag of chips when he heard a sound from Sam’s bedroom. The thought that Sam might not remember Josh saying he would stay made him walk towards the room to warn him of his presence. In hindsight, Josh realised it would have probably been wiser for him to stay where he was and gently and calmly call out to Sam to let him know he was there. If he had done that he suspected he wouldn’t now be leaning over Sam who was sitting on the floor, clutching his chest and calling Josh names that he was sure he would regret once he had calmed down.

“You scared the crap out of me!”

“I should have called your name,” Josh said nodding thoughtfully. “That was quite a leap though. You sort of went up there like someone had-” Josh stopped his description realising it was best to move on. “So, you slept, before you had a heart attack, you got some sleep?”

Sam rubbed at his face. “Yeah.” 

“You want something to eat?”

“What time is it?”

“Around nine I think.” 

Sam yawned and Josh resisted the urge to do the same. “I’m going back to bed. You know where the stuff is for the spare bed.” Sam then faced Josh and put his hand on his shoulder. “And you go right ahead and make yourself at home. I mean don’t worry about me. I don’t want you worrying about me when you could be eating my food and watching my TV and…” Sam walked over to the sofa, “dropping peanut butter onto my sofa.”

“That’ll come out.” Josh said confidently.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t let me sleep late in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Josh watched as Sam went back to his room closing the door behind him. He sent a text to Toby and one to CJ and then he phoned his mom and asked her how to remove peanut butter from fabric. 

Josh woke to a buzzing sound and only when he heard Sam’s disembodied voice telling someone to come up, did he realise what the sound had been. A few moments later Sam opened the door to let Toby in. “I told you not to let me sleep in,” he said to Josh by way of greeting as he walked back into the kitchen followed by Toby. 

Josh looked around. The mess from the night before had been cleared away and Sam had placed some sort of solution onto the peanut butter stain. Obviously his mom’s trick hadn’t worked. He scratched at his head, yawned and then followed the smell of coffee.

Toby and Sam were sitting at the table tucking into the bagels and pastries Toby had brought with him. Josh yawned again before pulling up a chair to join them. 

“It’s 11 o’clock.” Sam said accusingly to Josh. “I have to be, well I don’t have to be anywhere but if I did, I wouldn’t be there!”

Josh smiled and cocked his head to one side. “You asked me to make sure you didn’t sleep in. How did you think that was going to turn out?”

“Yeah, well anyway, I’ve slept for thirteen hours straight. Thirteen hours! You could fly to the UK and back in that time.”

“How do you feel?” Toby asked.

“I feel like I’ve slept for thirteen hours!” Sam performed a quick self-assessment. “I feel good, despite the fact that my left foot is still asleep, I feel fine.”

“It’ll catch up,” Josh said. “I slept on my arm once and when I woke up the-”

“How do you feel otherwise?” Toby asked.

“I feel good, Toby.” Sam took a sip of coffee and caught Toby’s gaze. “Honestly! Look, it’s too early for this conversation. Can’t we just leave it at me feeling good and eating pastries?”

“Yeah,” Toby agreed and he lifted his cup to Sam.

“We should do something,” Josh announced.

“I was thinking of going back to bed,” Sam said and Josh couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

“No, really, we should do something today.”

Toby had been planning on going into work but he humoured Josh and asked him what he had in mind.

“They’re showing Ghostbusters at National Harbour.”

Sam burst out laughing. “What the hell?”

“Donna was bugging me to take her.”

“Okay, well I’m going into work,” Toby announced. He was putting one arm in his coat when he saw the expressions on Sam and Josh’s faces. “You’re sulking?” he asked incredulously. They both nodded. Toby sat down again and shrugged off his coat. “I will not watch Ghostbusters at an open-air cinema. I will eat lunch paid for by Josh. I will not walk by or alongside any stretch of sand during this…this...trip.”

Josh exchanged a high-five with Sam and then rushed off to take a shower. Sam sat back in his chair. “You can go to work if you want. I can keep Josh occupied. It’s me he’s trying to fix.”

“You’re not broken. Anyway, I might feel like a trip out.” Sam laughed again for the second time that morning. Toby realised how foreign the sound had become. “By or along any stretch of sand,” Toby reiterated and he picked up the newspaper and waited for Josh.

Claire scanned the crowd until she saw her name on a piece of card and hurried towards the man holding it. He led her to the waiting car and told her Mr McGarry had asked if she’d like to come to the White House before going to the hotel. She replied that she would and immediately started worrying. The arrangement had been for her to be picked up and taken to her hotel where she would meet Leo for lunch. Something must have happened since their phone call yesterday. She sat back in her seat and made a determined effort not to let her imagination run riot before she reached the White House. Leo greeted her and led her to his office. When he shut the door behind them, she could wait no longer. “Something’s happened hasn’t it?” 

“You haven’t spoken to Sam?”

“Leo, tell me!”

“I didn’t phone because you’d just have been worrying all the way here.” He gestured to the chairs and waited until she was seated before telling her about the events of yesterday. When he had finished Claire finally relaxed back into her chair. 

“I should have called?” Leo asked of her silence.

“No. I mean what would I have done? I already had a flight booked. I doubt Sam would have told me anything even if I’d phoned him. He’s obviously been feeding me popple pips.”

“And that would mean?”

“That, Leo, would mean he’s been telling me fibs and he’s obviously not doing nearly so well as he’d like me to believe.”

“Are popple pips actually a thing?”

“I don’t know but it appears having a frank conversation with my son is going to be ‘a thing’!”

Leo grimaced at the thought and made a mental note never to get caught giving Claire pips, popple or otherwise.

Josh had been right, Toby decided. Of course he would never dream of admitting this to Josh but the trip to National Harbour had turned out to be a very good idea. Sam looked more relaxed than he had for a long while. His smile was a little easier, the constant frown was gone and every other sign of the tension he had been carrying had disappeared. Toby wondered if being near the water was partly responsible for that. Sam certainly seemed to be in his element. As they walked around the marina Sam seemed to be physically lifted by the smells and sounds. How the smell and the annoying constant clinking of masts in the breeze could have a positive impact on anyone was beyond Toby but he had to concede it certainly seemed to have one on Sam. 

“Ha!” Sam’s sudden cry of triumph pulled Toby from his thoughts and towards his deputy who was looking very smug and taking a photo of a boat on his cell phone. 

“Is this it?” Josh asked and Toby realised he must have missed quite a lot of the conversation as they’d been walking. 

“This is it and I have to say Charles Masters Junior is going to reconsider the wisdom of making outlandish claims of his seamanship. Hardly a scratch!” Sam tutted and smiled widely as he took shots of the obvious damage alongside the hull. This job completed, Sam put his phone away and turned his attention back to his friends. “You know, Toby, we can hire a boat if you want and go Bass fishing?”

“This is the second time in recent weeks that I’ve found myself waterside and both times have been because of you. This would be a good time to suggest we go somewhere with walls, a ceiling, air which is conditioned by machines and no flying insects.”

“Bond 45!” Josh said. “It’s great, they serve the alcohol in prohibition teacups. They also serve prime twenty-eight day dry aged steaks if the teacups don’t do it for you.” 

“Bond 45,” Sam agreed and he led them out of the marina.

Leo replaced the handset and went over to where Claire was sitting. “They’re having lunch.   
Josh started saying something about twenty-eight day steaks in teacups so I hung up.”

“Sam’s okay?”

“According to Josh, who’s eating steaks out of teacups, so…”

Claire smiled and nodded. “Good.” She stood and picked up her coat. “Good!” She walked over to where Leo’s coat was hung and took it off its peg. “Take me to lunch and I’ll tell you about the apartment I’m going to look at this afternoon.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “You’re looking at apartments in DC?”

“I just might be, Mr McGarry,” she answered coquettishly. 

In the room next door President Bartlet looked up sharply to the sound of a whoop followed by a giggle. He then smiled to himself and returned to his reading.

It was unusual for Josh, Toby and Sam to get to sit down to eat without one of them being called away by a pager, cell phone or assistant and so they were enjoying the opportunity to take their time over lunch. When their coffee arrived Sam stirred his thoughtfully before ending the easy silence that has accompanied most of the meal. “I spoke to Dr Graham this morning.”

Josh’s cup was halfway to his mouth but he placed it back on the table and waited for Sam to continue.

“He’s a little worried.” Sam picked up a napkin and started to fold it. “He wants me to go see him tomorrow.” Having made a triangle from the napkin, Sam turned one side over and started to pull the edges out of their fold. “He thinks I should, well, he didn’t commit, it was just a phone call, but I think he thinks I should reconsider my work schedule.” Sam made a final pull of one of the corners and presented Josh with a perfect napkin water Lilly.

“What the hell? What does that mean?” Josh asked.

Sam shrugged and reached for Toby’s napkin but Toby snatched it away.

“I was going to make you a boat,” Sam complained.

“Is he saying you should cut back, take a break or what?” Toby asked.

“I don’t know and I have to say the indifference you’re both showing to my napkin folding skills is wounding.”

Josh pulled his chair closer to the table. “So how do you feel about it?”

“Well, when a man takes the trouble to fold a-”

“Sam! How do you feel about your work schedule?” 

Sam shrugged again. “I really don’t know. But there’s one thing I know for certain; I can’t go through what happened yesterday again.” He stood, pulled a note from his wallet, placed it on the table and left the restaurant.

They found him sitting on some steps staring fixedly at a sculpture. Josh sat down next to him whilst Toby stood behind them, leaning on a railing.

“It’s called The Awakening,” Sam explained. “It used to be in DC but they had it moved here a few years ago. I’ve never seen it before. I mean, I’ve seen it, from a distance, but I’ve never looked at it before.”

Josh replied by turning his attention to the sculpture. The five cast iron pieces were placed separately on the sand to create the impression of a distressed giant trying to free himself from the confines of the earth. “It used to be in Potomac Park,” Sam continued. “A friend of mine thinks this was a terrible place to put it, cramped into a little fake beach next to corroding salt water.”

“You have to say if a giant was buried in there I don’t think he’d have much trouble getting out,” Josh agreed.

“If I was a giant I’d just wait for the tide to come in and loosen the sand.”

“He’d drown.”

“He’d be able to use the force of his body weight to move the sand around him and eventually he’d be able to free himself.”

“He could drown.”

“The tide only comes to here,” Sam demonstrated a level below the giant’s head. “I bet he looked better in the park with all that earth around him and tree roots tangled around his legs.”

“He looks scared.”

“He is,” Sam said.

They sat in silence then, side by side. Toby moved down to the steps and sat behind them. The only sounds were of people coming and going, birds calling above them and the feint chinking of cutlery on plates from the restaurant nearby.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-four 

On arriving back at Sam’s apartment, Josh went straight to the sofa, picked up the TV remote and found a game to watch. “The perfect end to a perfect day,” he said as he stretched out and took the bottle of beer that Sam handed to him.

Both men were surprised when Toby reached over Josh’s legs for the remote and turned the TV off. “The day isn’t over yet. We still need to have a conversation about what your doctor might say tomorrow.”

“We really don’t,” Sam said.

Josh was about to moan about the premature end to his plans but now that Toby had forced the issue he was keen to have the conversation as well. “You know what, we really do,” he said and he scooted over so Sam could join him.

Sam took a long swig of beer and then nodded. “I think Dr Graham is going to want me to cut back even more.”

Toby shooed Nickleby off the armchair and sat down opposite Sam. “You don’t need to do that. You just need to accept that four days is all you can do at the moment.”

“I have accepted that!”

“Oh yeah, now you mention it, I remember thinking that you had when I found you curled up on the floor behind your desk,” Josh said.

“Well that’s a little harsh,” Sam said defensively.

Toby stood and to Sam’s surprise walked over to Nickleby who was on the windowsill. To his even greater surprise he started to stroke him. 

Sam waited for a response from his friends but none came. “Okay, let me just say this-” One look from Toby made Sam change course. “Alright, I won’t say that but I will say this-” This time raised eyebrows from Josh stopped him. “Fine, I haven’t accepted it. So there you have it.” 

Reaching for his beer, Josh nodded. “So Dr Graham is going to suggest you cut back and you’re-”

“You’re going to be nothing but completely honest with him about how you haven’t cut back to four days yet and maybe if you try doing As We Agreed you’ll find you’ll cope fine with that,” Toby interrupted.

“Do you want to write that down for me so I can say exactly what you think I-”

“Sam!” The chorus of his name from Toby and Josh silenced Sam once more.

Sam folded his arms and sent a glare at Josh. He received a shrug in response. Eventually he relaxed and rested back into the sofa. He took the bottle of beer Josh passed him and drank from it before sighing heavily. “Let’s, for sake of clarity, just go through what we’ve agreed again.”

This time Toby sighed, gave Nickleby one last stroke and then came to sit opposite Sam. “We agreed four days and no more but with a now regrettable ‘work at home’ on the fifth day arrangement. But that’s not important.”

“It’s not?” Sam asked. Josh mirrored his confused expression as they watched Toby walk over to his coat and pull an envelope out of the pocket.

“No, it’s not. This is.” He handed it to Sam.

“This is a contract,” Sam said as he scanned the document. 

“Read it,” Toby ordered. Nickleby chose that moment to jump on Toby’s lap and Sam had a fleeting image of Toby as a Bond villain before willing the image away and starting to read. Nickleby’s soft purring was occasionally punctuated by the sound of a page being turned. 

Sam read every word and then placed the papers on the coffee table and looked straight at Toby. Josh watched transfixed by the silent conversation that seemed to pass between the two men. “Give me your pen.” Sam’s command ended the exchange and Toby dislodged Nickleby so that he could reach into his pocket. 

Sam signed the document and handed it back to Toby. “I want a copy of that.”

“Of course.”

Sam looked at Josh. “It’s a basic contract between me and Toby,” he explained. “It’s all crossed and dotted.”

“And?” Josh asked.

“And what?” Sam replied.

“What does it say?” Josh cried.

“Oh. Well it contains a number of provisions pertaining to my working relationship with Tobias Zachary Zieglar. Namely that the First Party, that’s me, will not be permitted by the Second Party, that’s Toby, to enter the West Wing for a fifth day of any working week and a second day of any weekend.”

“That’s unenforceable,” Josh said.

“Enforceable,” Toby stated. He had spent an hour with visitor and security officials making sure it would be.

“Furthermore, the First Party agrees not to withhold medical information which may later prove to have had an impact on the quality or quantity of work produced.”

“Unenforceable!” Josh objected again. “How can you prove quality or quantity would have been improved if medical information had been revealed?” 

“How can you prove it wouldn’t have?” Toby replied.

Josh frowned at him and turned back to Sam. “Does the Second Party agree to anything?”

“It does. The Second Party agrees not to act in any way which may later prove to have been prompted by concerns regarding performance in the absence of medical information.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Josh asked.

“It means that Toby isn’t allowed to give me dummy assignments or try to reduce my agreed workload because he thinks I might be tired or whatever.”

“Within the aforementioned agreed days of work,” Toby added.

Josh looked at Toby and then Sam. He frowned and took a long swig of beer. “What happens if one of you breaches one of the-”

“Won’t happen,” Toby said decisively as he stood and headed for the kitchen.

Sam smiled and shook his head. “It’s worth a try,” he said to Josh.

“Worth a try,” Josh repeated and he lifted his bottle. 

Toby smiled as he heard the sound of the two bottles clinking.

Dr Graham’s secretary smiled at Sam as he ducked away from Claire who was attempting to straighten his tie.

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me Samuel Norman.” She sent a sharp nod towards her son and an even sharper look towards the secretary who was still smiling at Sam. “You should have phoned me. You should have phoned me and told me you weren’t doing well.”

Sam sighed but he placed his hand over Claire’s and held it. “I didn’t know I wasn’t doing well. If I’d known I’d have told myself. I’d have had a frank conversation with myself, probably in front a mirror.”

“Well don’t say that to Dr Graham!”

Sam laughed and squeezed his mom’s hand before letting go and returning his attention to the very nice-looking lady behind the desk. Another of her dazzling smiles was cut short by the appearance of Graham and Sam and Claire followed him into his office. The conversation went pretty much how Sam had expected it would. Graham smiled when Sam admitted he had pushed too far and announced that it was excellent that Sam was able to reflect and make such judgements. He smiled when Sam showed him the contract and stated that, unusual though it was, it may well help Sam to have a set of ‘rules’ that would be hard for him or Toby to circumnavigate when dealing with his continued recovery.

Sam and Claire had lunch on a bench by the Potomac and then walked to the White House. Leo was waiting for them in the lobby. He told Sam the President was waiting to see him and then whispered to Claire that he’d been waiting to see her. If there was anyone in the White House who didn’t believe the rumours that Leo McGarry was involved with Sam Seaborn’s mom, then watching him skip up the stairs with her like an eighteen-year-old would have convinced them.

Sam took the cup of tea offered to him by Bartlet and took a sip before finding a more comfortable position on the sofa.

“Call me a traditionalist, but I like my staff seated at their desks.”

“Yes sir.”

“Not so much sitting on the floor behind them.”

“No sir,” Sam replied, hating where the conversation was heading.

“I saw you that morning and I remember asking you how you were. ‘Oh, I’m fine Mr President, I’m just peachy’.”

“Well, I don’t think I said that, sir,” Sam objected.

“No but your attempt to appease me instead of telling me the truth amounted to much the same thing.”

Sam stalled for time by taking a sip of tea but it was too hot so he returned the cup to his lap. “I didn’t think you were really asking, just making conversation.”

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on you since you scared the crap out of us all by nearly dying and I’ll do anything it takes to keep you doing the job you love and are so damn brilliant at, so, Sam, how are you feeling today?”

“You see if you’d put it that way…” Sam smiled sheepishly at Bartlet and then proceeded to tell him that he was tired, his ankle ached and he felt a little dizzy but had no plans to go behind his desk anytime soon.

“Okay,” the President replied. He put his glasses on and pulled some papers from his pocket. He scanned the front page and peered over his glasses at Sam. “You know what I have here?”  
For a horrifying moment Sam thought Toby had given him a copy of the contract. “I have no idea, sir.”

“It’s something I shouldn’t even have and was going to throw away but then I thought there might come a time when it would be useful for you to see it.” He stood and refilled his cup as he continued. “When you were in the hospital Leo started talking to Toby about finding a replacement. To say Toby initially had a hard time accepting the idea would be an understatement.” He returned to the sofa and sat down. “Leo told him to come up with a list.” He handed the piece of paper over to Sam.

The document was divided by two headings. The first read ‘People who can replace Sam’. Below this heading was blank space. Halfway down the page was another heading, ‘People who might be able to cover some aspects of Sam’s work’. There were three names below. One of them belonged to a Senator who had died seven years ago.

Sam looked back up at the President. “How do you have this?”

“Leo showed it to me when I asked why Toby still hadn’t found someone to cover for you. I kept hold of it.”

Sam started to fold the paper. “Can I?” Bartlet nodded and watched as Sam tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Bartlet stood. “No more hiding behind your desk.”

“Like you’ve never hidden behind your desk.”

“That was one time and Abbey was particularly pissed.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam laughed as he left the Oval Office and headed for his own. 

Today would be a quick visit to straighten his desk and get a few things sorted before he returned to work once more on Monday. The final return he had taken to calling it because if this one didn’t work he had already decided he would not come back again.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-five

“We’re live in ten, nine, eight seven, six…” The voice vanished and the countdown continued with hand signals. Sam straightened his tie and searched again for the green light which told him which camera to look at. 

“Welcome to Talkback. We’re joined by Sam Seaborn the White House Deputy Director of Communications and Janet Farnham, a representative from the Californian Environment Pact.” 

Sam’s head shot up and then back down to his notes. He had been pretty certain that he was coming on the show to talk about school subsidies. He turned his notes over, looked up and gave Janet a dazzling smile.

Thirty minutes later Sam sat impatiently while his microphone was removed. He shook hands with the host and Janet, got out his cell phone and then walked to a quiet corner of the studio. “Josh, were you watching?”

Josh turned a page of the file he was reading and switched the phone onto speaker. “You know what, Sam, I actually have more important things to do than watch you on Feedback.”

“It’s Talkback and you always watch me in the hope I’ll get whooped by a girl again.”

“That’s true. I watched for a while and then turned off when I realised Janet was no match for your incredible debating powers.”

Sam walked towards the exit grabbing a cup of coffee from a trolley on the way. “Did I come over as knowledgeable and articulate?”

Josh leant back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “You came over as someone who has read far too many books about the positive impact of regeneration in the wake of forest fires.”

“Good, that’s good, that’s better than…that’s good.” Sam stepped outside into the sunlight and squinted in the brightness. “I’ll be back in ten.” 

When Sam got back to the West Wing he went straight to Toby’s office. “Did you see it?” he asked as he sat on the sofa.

“Only the first few minutes. I only watch if there’s a chance of you making a public spectacle of yourself. Did you?”

“Surprisingly, no, I didn’t. Here’s a thing though.”

“What?”

“Janet Farnham was very interested in your comments about Senator Harris.”

Toby’s hand stilled on the book he was pulling from the shelf. “You mean the comments that were off the record, the ones that just slipped out when I happened to be standing next to a reporter.”

“Yes, Toby, I think those were the comments she was referring to.”

Toby shook his head as he turned back to Sam. “I can only apologise unreservedly for any offence caused, although, you know, I won’t.”

Sam laughed in reply and was about to leave when Toby’s called him back. “You did good on there. I’m glad you talked me round.”

“Well thank you. I’m glad I talked you round too.”

Sam returned to his office and sat at his desk, pulling his laptop open he started to read and then rewrite what he had completed before he’d left for the studio. 

It had taken him a week to convince Toby that he was ready to appear on television again. CJ had been all for it and had done all Sam asked to make it happen, including making it clear to the studio that if he was asked about the accident or recovery he would walk off the set. The final discussion had happened in Leo’s office and culminated with Sam accusing Toby of being frightened he was going to let the administration down by stammering or forgetting what he was saying. Before Toby could reply Sam had stormed to his office and returned with a copy of the contract, an angrily highlighted copy. Toby conceded that in the light of the contract he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Then why are you fighting me on this?” Sam asked, his arms open, gesturing for an explanation.

“Because I can’t protect you out there!” Toby shouted in reply.

Sam’s anger left him immediately and he’d shook his head before looking straight at Toby. “But, if it all goes to hell, well, you’ll be here when I get back won’t you?”

Toby had nodded and realising that was all Sam needed from him his anger had dissolved too until all that was left a slightly uncomfortable silence filled by CJ’s soft laugh and softer touch to Toby’s arm as she walked past him. 

Sam smiled at the memory of Toby’s reluctant declaration. Tomorrow was Thursday and he was looking forward to the long weekend he had planned sailing with Darren and some friends he hadn’t seen in a long while.

“You’ve got all you need for the Carter meeting tomorrow?” Toby asked making Sam jump at his sudden appearance.

“Yeah. Where are you going again?”

Toby shot him a look and Sam sighed. “It’s not a memory thing I just wasn’t that interested when you told me the first time.” Toby graced him with a very different look. “Not that your meetings aren’t interesting to me. I’m very interested in your meetings just where they take place, not so much.”

“Chicago,” Toby replied. “You know Josh is on the Hill in the morning?”

“Yes, Toby. CJ’s meeting with Earl Harrison from CNB, Josh is meeting with Congressman Dougherty and you are meeting with the Joint Economic Committee. Would you like me to get the President’s schedule?”

“You’re making fun of me?” Toby asked.

“With you, I’m making fun with you.”

“You might want to keep the fun to yourself there.”

“Yes,” Sam agreed and returned once more to his work.

The following morning Toby phoned Sam twice before he got on the plane. The first time was to make sure Sam had the notes from Ginger for the meeting with Carter. The second time was to tell Sam he was getting on the plane. Sam was secretly grateful for Toby’s awkward and veiled displays of concern. Both he and Josh had backed off a great deal since he had returned to work and he was grateful for that too.  
“Leo wants to see you,” Ginger announced and Sam turned his full attention to the day ahead.

Leo looked up as Sam entered his office and gestured for him to take a seat. He finished his call, scribbled something down and then called for Margaret. No banter this morning. Margaret listened to Leo’s instructions, nodded and then left the room.  
“We have a bit of a thing brewing here,” Leo told Sam as he walked over to join him. “Well two things.”

“Ah, Thing One and Thing Two.”

Leo pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before fixing his gaze on Sam. “Ronald Dayton has had a heart attack.”

“Thing one’s pretty crappy,” Sam said.

“Yeah, wait until you here thing two- I mean the other thing. Charles Wendsworth Junior was arrested last night for a lewd act outside a 7-Eleven and being found in possession of cocaine.”

“Charles Wendsworth?”

“Yeah.”

“Our Charles Wendsworth?”

“Yeah.”

“The same Charles Wendsworth that the President is recommending for director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy?”

Leo nodded and Sam shook his head. “Thing Two’s pretty crappy too.” Leo agreed it was and then Sam realised it was even crappier than he thought. “I’m going to have to rewrite the speech for tonight, primarily the bit where the President announces his recommendation for the director of the Office of National Drug Policy.” Sam sighed and then frowned. “A lewd act outside a 7-Eleven. When did people stop committing lewd acts in parking lots and public restrooms?”

“I have to say, Sam, I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”

“Me neither,” replied Sam as if it was a subject you would expect a lot of thought to be given to. “Okay, well, when I’ve met with Carter, rewritten tonight’s speech and written the statement about Ronald Dayton I’ll pop back and see where you are with that.”

Leo told him to do just that and returned to his own mountain of work.

Sam returned to his office to find Ginger waiting for him with a cup of coffee and three message slips. He smiled gratefully as he took the cup and then flicked through the messages before putting one in his pocket and the other two by his phone. Ginger told him that Shelly, his new assistant, had phoned in sick. She added ‘again’ in a knowing tone.

“It’s only the second time,” Sam said.

“Third time and then there was that business with her sick mother.” 

“You say ‘business’ as if you doubt its credibility?” Sam said although he too had his concerns about his assistant’s inability to actually be at work to assist him. “Anyway, I don’t need her today. I need you and Bonnie. I also need a biography of Senator Ronald Dayton and a copy of tonight’s speech with all references to Charles Wendsworth and the ONDP highlighted.”

Sam went back to his desk and thought about what he had to do. It wasn’t too bad. He could have done without rewriting the speech but it wasn’t too bad. He still had some comments for Toby to finish off but that could wait. The day was going to go well, he was on top of things and he was going to stay that way. 

By midmorning Sam had made a start on editing the speech. He leant back in his chair and was removing his glasses when Ginger entered his office with a cup of green tea and a banana.

“I asked for coffee and a pastry!” Sam objected.

“I’m worried about your caffeine intake and potassium levels.”

“My potassium levels are just fine and my caffeine intake is currently too low.”

Ginger held the cup out until Sam reluctantly took it. “Did you need any more on Senator Dayton?” she asked.

Sam shook his head before taking a sip of tea and grimacing. “Any news on CJ?”

“She’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Is she getting questions about Wendsworth?”

“Yup, she’s fielding until the briefing at two.” Ginger picked up the banana and started to peel it.

Sam held out a slip of paper to Ginger which had figures to check before his meeting with Carter. “Take this and put the banana down.” 

“I’m just getting started.”

“Give it to me!”

“Why?”

“I want to peel it. If I have to eat the banana I should at least get to peel it, which is, I might add the only fun thing about eating a banana in the first place.”

Ginger reluctantly handed it over, took the piece of paper and left. Sam shook his head as he finished peeling the fruit and then returned to work.

An hour later he had finished the statement about Ronald Dayton. A brief history of his life in politics, well wishes for a speedy recovery and a line about the faith the President had in Dayton’s department and deputy to carry on in his absence. 

“Ronald Dayton just died,” Bonnie said from the doorway. 

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

“His doctor just announced it on CNN so I’m pretty sure, yes.”

“You couldn’t just check if-”

“Sam, he’s dead!”

“Okay,” Sam leant back in his chair and sighed. “Okay. Well, that’s not too bad. I mean it’s devastating for his family, but for me in terms of rewriting the statement, well it’s not too bad.” Sam looked down at his desk took a deep breath. 

“What do you need us to do?” Bonnie asked.

He stood and clapped his hands. “Okay, take this,” he said, handing her the Dayton statement, “change every sentence that starts with ‘is’ to ‘was’. You know, Ronald Dayton is a well-respected member of becomes-”

“Ronald Dayton was a well-respected member of, yeah, I’ve got it.” 

Sam looked down at his desk and at the notes for his meeting with Carter and the first draft of the edited speech. He heard his name and looked up to find Bonnie staring at him. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“I am. I am okay. CJ’s on her way, I’m ready for Carter and the first draft looks good.”

Ginger’s appeared around the doorframe. “CJ’s on line 2.”

Sam picked up the phone. “Hey, CJ. Swing by before the briefing and I’ll-”

Bonnie and Ginger watched as Sam paled, then sat down and then hung up the phone. They listened as Sam told them that CJ was stuck in traffic and that he would be doing the briefing which couldn’t be postponed or cancelled as somehow the President’s proposed recommendation of Wendsworth had been leaked and his lawyer had already cited it as a show of support for the man who was currently having his fingerprints taken by DC’s finest. 

“I bet you’re glad you had that banana now,” Ginger offered.

Sam puffed out a huge sigh and then stood up. “Get me a flipchart, three pens and a huge pack of Post-its!”


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-six

Sam had decamped to Toby’s office. The flipchart he had requested stood in the corner. Bonnie and Ginger were seated on the sofa waiting for him to finish writing on the chart. He underlined the last item on his list with a flourish and turned to them. “Okay, this is my day. The day was going well and then a man died and another man committed a lewd act outside a 7-Eleven. These two events are not connected by the way. So, this is my day. There are a number of tasks to complete within a given timeframe. So what I need you to do is-”

“You need us to get you through the day,” Ginger said.

“I had a few…it was more… Yes, I need you to get me through the day.”

“Well, okay.” She went over to the flipchart and turned to a new page but then changed her mind and reached for one of the pack of Post-its that Sam had asked for. “Have you got a clipboard?” Sam obediently went to his office and fetched one. “Yellow Post-its are the main things you’re going to say about Dayton. Stick them on the left of the board.” Sam took the pack and started to copy short sentences from his notes before sticking them on. “Now the pink ones are for Wendsworth.” Again, Sam wrote on the tiny sheets and stuck them onto his board.

Bonnie had taken the green pack and written ‘1- Visit to Beijing on one and ‘2- Early Childhood education Initiative’. She leant forward and stuck them at the top of the clipboard. “So, you start with the two green notes and here,” she reached behind her to the sofa, “are the two statements about those.”

“Then, you start with the yellow and the pink.” Ginger nodded with satisfaction. “And the best thing about this system is that once you’ve read the Post-it you can just turn the bottom of it over without anyone seeing and move onto the next.”

Sam was about to reply when Carol appeared at the doorway to tell him it was time to start the briefing. She looked, he decided, even more nervous than the time Josh had covered for CJ and that made his own nerves suddenly reappear. “I was on talkback the other day. I was articulate and knowledgeable. Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve gone back five months?”

“Oh, Sam,” Ginger stepped forwards and placed a hand on his arm. Sam looked closer to bolting by the second. 

The silence was broken by a gruff voice calling out across the Bullpen. “Sam! Haven’t you got a briefing to do?”

Sam looked at Leo and nodded.

“Well get the hell out there and do it then. It’s CJ, then it’s you, there’s no one else I’d let loose in that pressroom.”

Sam knew there were a number of communications staff that could take a briefing but he nodded as Leo’s words had the intended effect. Sam straightened his shoulders and took the clipboard from Ginger. “Well, here I go.”

Sam hadn’t really understood the Post-it system but it came into its own as soon as he stepped up to the podium. “Good afternoon, everyone.” His mind went completely blank. He looked down at the clipboard and saw a fluorescent green note with number one written on it and then he pulled out the matching statement also with a florescent green note on it. “The President will arrive in Beijing on Monday, the 10th, for a three-day visit.” As he continued to read, Ginger released the breath she had held since handing Sam the clipboard. The second statement was read and Sam told the press corps he would take a few questions. He then started on the Post-its. To his surprise the fact that he could turn them over as he read the notes was a big help and allowed him to pace his thoughts. Sam was dealing with a number of questions about the President’s recommendation for Wendsworth which were getting increasingly difficult. “Why was the act committed outside of a 7-Eleven?” a new member of the corps asked.

“Convenience?” Sam offered, thanked them and left the podium. The overzealous reporter started to write his answer but then stopped when he realised the man sitting next to him was laughing. 

Sam didn’t have time to enjoy his parting riposte as he was hurried back to his office by Ginger who was keen to make sure he was ready for his meeting with Carter. More Post-its were utilised this time inside a page of his diary. These consisted of one or two words, reminders of Carter’s agenda and, more importantly, of Sam’s.

“Did you finish the Dayton statement?” Sam asked as he rearranged the Post-its.

“Yep, that’s a big tick on the board.”

“Okay,” Sam waited expectantly until Bonnie realised he actually wanted her to tick the item off. “Excellent.”

Sam was about to leave for his meeting when Ginger handed him the phone. “Josh.”

Sam sat back down. “How’s the congressman?”

“Enjoying yanking my chain. How’d it go with Carter?”

“I’m on my way now.”

“I saw the briefing. Convenience. Very funny.”

“Yeah, well, always leave them wanting more.”

He heard Josh’s soft chuff of laughter. “How you doing?”

Sam smiled at the inevitable question and real reason for the call. “Ginger and Bonnie are in charge.”

“Okay, that sounds…a little frightening actually, but good.”

“I’m just a puppet, a puppet with Post-its. Listen, I’ve got to go. When’re you back?”

“Should be another couple of hours.” 

Sam wished Josh good luck with the congressmen and hung up. He took one last look at his notes and headed for his meeting. 

Some people on meeting Sam after the accident were awkward, unsure of what to say or do. Some were full of sympathy and kind enquiries. Carter fell into the latter group. The meeting began a firm handshake which was held long enough for Sam to know Carter’s words were genuine. As the meeting progressed Sam closed his diary having no need for the Post-it cues. He had worked on the Fair Start initiative, a whole raft of proposals to decrease the gap between academic attainment between rich and poor, before the accident and was keen to get Carter to agree to his district becoming one of the first to sign up. “The funding is there,” Sam pointed out. “The data on first-generation college applications for your district alone is-”

“I don’t need the hard sell, Sam. I need to know what happens once the first wave of funding’s gone. What do we get to keep?”

Sam smiled as he explained that some of the money was coming from an organisation that was looking for a legacy of their support beyond initial funding. Carter was on board and if he was then it was likely between them they’d get more.

Sam returned to his office to find Bonnie placing a plate of sandwiches on his desk. “We added a thing to the flipchart.”

Sam looked up to see ‘make Sam eat’ had been written between two actions. “I was going to eat. I didn’t think I needed to include it in the action plan.”

“We did.” She placed the plate on Sam’s desk along with a cup of coffee and a glass of water.   
“The Dayton statement has gone to the President. CJ’s releasing it when she gets in which should be any minute now. Leo’s coming by in a few minutes to see where you’re up to with the changes to tonight’s speech. But before that, you eat and you sit and you appreciate the stillness.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “I’d appreciate the stillness even more if you could rustle up a few Advil for me.”

“He’s got a headache!” Bonnie yelled to Ginger.

“What the hell?” Sam said.

“You asked us to get you through the day and that’s what we’re going to do. So just sit there and let us do it!” Ginger said as she entered the office and drew the blinds.

Sam pulled the plate towards him and took a bite of a sandwich. He was happy to appreciate the stillness for a while. His head throbbed and his mind was trying to work quicker than he could cope with. He was on his second sandwich when Leo came to take a look at Sam’s notes. “Are you gonna take out any mention of Wendsworth?”

“I’m trying. It’s not reading well without it. How would the President feel if I took out the paragraph about the drugs altogether and reworked it into an announcement about Fair Start?”

“Carter’s on board?”

“Yeah,” Sam put the sandwich down and rubbed at his head. “It’s enough for us to be able to introduce the idea behind it and maybe call out a few districts that should be getting on board.”

Leo nodded slowly and agreed it was a good idea. He told Sam to get a draft to him within the hour. Sam pushed the plate of food away and opened the blinds. “Ginger, the last draft of the speech?”

“I’m getting it,” she replied. 

The wall in front of Sam slipped sideways and righted just as CJ entered the room. “Spanky, did my briefing and he nailed it!” She high-fived Sam. “I’m going to make Josh watch it.”

Sam laughed as he returned to his desk, keen to sit down until the room stilled. “I had a lot of help.” He went to rub at his head but thought better of it in front of CJ. “I’m introducing Fair Start in the speech tonight.”

“It went well with Carter then.”

“It did. I’m taking out the Wendsworth stuff, reworking Fair Start in.”

“Okay.” CJ walked closer to his desk and perched on the edge. “There’s some food there on your desk.”

Sam nodded as Ginger entered and held out the draft of the speech. On seeing the untouched sandwiches she pulled the paper out of his reach. “You haven’t eaten them!” 

Sam wanted to stand so he could remind the two women that this was his office and he could eat when he liked. The fact that he could see three plates of sandwiches on his desk made him think better of risking the move. He sighed resignedly and then pulled the plate towards him. “Economic class is increasingly becoming the great dividing line of American education.” Sam stopped and looked up at Ginger. “Are you writing this down?” He waited whilst she fetched her pad and pencil and then started again. By the time he’d finished the sandwiches Ginger had two paragraphs down. 

Sam stood and was pleased to find that everything else seemed to be staying still. “Can you take out the Wendsworth stuff and add that to the speech? I’ll be in Toby’s office.” It was time, he decided, for him to get reacquainted with Toby’s sofa. 

He spied the rubber balls as he entered, tempted, as always, to throw them in the trash. He lay down slowly in order to find a position that would lessen the pain in his head. He had no sooner closed his eyes than CJ appeared again. “Josh called. Dougherty’s withdrawing his support for the ONDCP Director Nomination.”

Sam sat up slowly, hoping CJ would miss his measured movements. “The judiciary committee are meeting tomorrow and he’s telling us this now?”

CJ walked over to the sofa. “Scoot over.”

“Ooh, shall I get Carol?” 

“Scoot!” CJ ordered again. Sam’s suggestive eyebrow raise made her smile and shake her head. “Josh has spent two hours trying to convince him that Melissa Merson does not have a secret legalisation agenda.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous. By law, the director has to oppose any attempt to legalise-“ Sam frowned, “I don’t know why he’s even arguing with him, there’s no position paper, memo, report, speech or off-the-record comment from Merson that so much as suggests she’s pro legalisation.” Sam sat back and looked at CJ. “What’s Josh planning? Does Toby know? This is bad, this is really bad. Why’s Josh still there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks he can fix it with Dougherty... maybe it’s the sister thing?”

“What sister thing?” Sam had a fleeting urge to look for his Post-Its. 

“Dougherty had a sister. She was working on Connelly’s campaign and was making a name for herself and then...I don’t know the ins and outs, who she was with or where the drugs came from. The campaign manager found her dead in her hotel room.”

Sam wondered why he hadn’t heard about it and realised it must have happened whilst he was recovering. “You think Josh is going easy on him because he feels sorry for him, no, not sorry, he feels a...” Sam finally gave in and rubbed at his forehead. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the word but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” CJ turned to face him, “I know what you mean.” She studied him until he looked away. “How you doing, Spanky?”

“I was going to lie down for a while. I need to finish the speech and we need to sort out the mess with Merson now, but I was going to lie down for a while.” 

CJ stood up and straightened her skirt. “I’m going to get you my blanket. I’ll phone Josh and find out what’s going on.” With that she left Sam alone. He lifted his legs onto the sofa and closed his eyes. His mind wandered: gaps in the speech that needed to be filled, how mad Josh would be when he came back and realised he needed to get Dougherty on side and had wasted the opportunity to do it, what exactly the lewd act Wendsworth had committed outside the 7-Eleven was. His eyes felt heavy and he could feel himself slipping into a welcoming sleep when another thought caused him to sit upright. He clambered off the sofa and back to his office passing CJ on his way, she followed him with the now redundant blanket. She watched as Sam called for Ginger and then reached for his phone. There was an energy and focus emanating from Sam that she hadn’t seen for a long time. She stayed by the doorway not even sure if Sam was aware she was there. Ginger slipped in beside her, aware too of the sudden energy in the room.

“Josh, it’s Sam. Phone me.” Sam placed the receiver down and started to pace behind his desk, snatching up the phone when it rang. “Josh, what does Dougherty want?” Sam nodded at Josh’s reply. “Good, because this will only work if his concerns about Merson are genuine.” Sam slowed his pacing and stood by the window. “Make it absolutely clear that we have no doubts at all about Merson’s appointment, tell him any suggestions that she’s in favour of legalisation will not be investigated or even countered and we stand by her as the nominee for Director of the ONDCP. Tell him that and then offer him the position of Director of The National Drug Control Policy.” Sam looked up at CJ as he listened to Josh’s response and smiled softly on seeing the blanket. “Well, tell him if he takes the job he’ll have the chance to effect real change and policy.” Sam responded to Josh’s questions with yes and no answers before hanging up and finally sitting down at his desk. 

“You worked that out in the time it took me to get my blanket?” 

Sam smiled and shrugged but answered by telling Ginger he needed the speech again, there were a few more changes to make. By the time Josh called to tell him Dougherty had accepted, Sam had already rewritten the two paragraphs and added them to the final draft. “Tell Leo it’s done and I’m bringing it over,” he told Bonnie as he left his office, headed for Leo’s.

When Sam returned he found CJ’s blanket on his desk. He smiled as he straightened the tassels on it, a moment of quiet and calm that was soon disturbed by the arrival of Josh. 

“Man, you did it. That was inspired,” Josh said as he pulled Sam into a congratulatory hug.

“Did what?” Toby asked entering a few steps behind Josh. “You’re unintelligible when you’re like this? What did Sam do?”

Josh stepped away from Sam but kept his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam saved Dougherty from wrecking the ONDCP nomination. He sailed right in there on his trusty day-saving ship and saved the day.”

Sam shrugged. “I had a moment of clarity and also a banana, which may have helped.”

Through the small window Toby saw the flipchart standing by his desk and returned his attention to Sam. “Is the speech okay?”

“Yeah, there were a few problems, a few rewrites. He’s reading it now. I think he’s due to leave soon.”

“You not going?” Josh asked.

“No, I was going to lie down for a while.”

Toby looked through the window again. “Is that still my office?”

Sam laughed softly. “Yeah, there was more room for us in there. I’ll get Ginger to clear our stuff.” Sam picked up the blanket and went to find Ginger.

“You should have heard him, Toby. He sounded like-” Josh perched on Sam’s desk and sighed, “I was going to say he sounded like Sam but that’s ridiculous because he is Sam but he sounded like the Sam we-”

“Took for granted?”

Josh looked up sharply, “We didn’t take Sam for granted!”

“Yes we did. We take everything for granted, until it’s gone. It’s human nature.”

Josh nodded. He watched Sam and Ginger silently removing the debris of their day from Toby’s office. 

An hour later Toby and Josh were in CJ’s office. “He did good today. We should tell him,” CJ said.

Toby nodded, “He saved the nomination, that’s a good day’s work right there.”

“Yeah, it’s more than that though. What was that scale, Josh, that Rancho Amigo thing?”

“Ah yes, The Ranchos Los Amigo Scale,” Josh said as he sat up straighter and CJ groaned inwardly. 

“Before Dr, Lyman here amazes us with his complete lack of medical knowledge, I was going to say, wasn’t there a thing in there about multitasking or doing something multiple times or something?”

Josh frowned, it had been a while since he’d read the scale or matched Sam’s progress to it. His frowned disappeared and a grin appeared on his face, “Hold on a minute. Wait here!” he said as he jumped up and left the room.

“I wasn’t planning on following him,” CJ said to Toby who nodded in reply. 

Josh soon reappeared waving a notebook in his hand. “You may scoff Claudia Jean but in this book is a detailed and enlightening record of Sam’s recovery but more importantly...” he flipped through the pages until he found his notes on the Ranchos Scale, “more importantly,” he mumbled. “Here it is. Patient is able to handle multiple tasks simultaneously in all environments but may require periodic breaks. Irritability and low frustration tolerance may persist when feeling sick, fatigued and/or under emotional distress. Holy crap! He’s at Level 10, he’s there, he’s at the top of the scale.”

“Do you think he realises just what he’s done today?” CJ asked. “I mean do you think he knows?”

Toby stood. “I’ll go find out.” As he walked towards his office he wondered if he should say anything at all to Sam. Surely if you’re at level 10 then you’re aware of how you’re performing? Maybe making a thing of it was the worst thing they could do? By the time he reached his office he’d decided to say nothing. He would wake Sam up, tell him to get his coat and come to the bar with them. He had no doubt that Josh would have more than enough to say on the subject anyway. 

He poked his head round the door expecting to find Sam on his sofa but the room was empty, the lights off. CJ’s blanket had been folded up and placed on the arm of the sofa. Sam’s office was also in darkness but as Toby turned away a sound stopped him. Quietly, he walked into his office and looked through the window to Sam’s. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and Toby could see Sam sitting on the floor by the door. The noise he had heard was the sound of Sam’s sobs. Toby stepped back from the window and listened for a few moments before carefully peering in again. Sam wiped his eyes and then ran a hand through his hair. He sighed deeply and let his head fall back against the wall. 

Toby stepped away from the window, out of the room. It wasn’t a smile that had crossed Sam’s face, it wasn’t as simple as that. The word Toby would later think of to describe Sam’s expression would be peaceful. 

CJ and Josh looked up as Toby entered the room. He walked over to the sofa and rocked forward on his toes before saying simply. “He knows.”


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-seven

Leo held the door open for Claire. “I don’t know anything about retail. Are you sure this is viable?” Leo asked as he entered the empty store.

“I was looking at expanding my business before I met you if you’re worried that I’m doing this as a way of keeping close to you without one of us having to commit to moving?”

Leo frowned and explained he hadn’t been worried about that but asked if he should be.  
Claire sat on one of three chairs left in the store by the previous owner and waited for Leo to join her. “No, you shouldn’t be worried about that. Sam had been looking for retail property for me for a while before the accident. I don’t know what we have or where it’s heading but neither of us is ready to be making that sort of move.” She turned to look at him. “Having said that, setting up the business here will mean I need to spend quite a bit of time in DC.” She pointed upwards. “There’s an apartment with the store.”

Leo smiled. “I don’t know where we’re heading either but I have to tell ya, I’m enjoying the journey.”

Sam had read the letter three times. He was surprised that the burn of anger he felt didn’t lessen on each reading. Sam knew all about restorative justice. He had written comments for the President for the Colorado State Restorative Justice Council and he’d worked hard to help secure restorative justice pilot projects in the initiative. He was surprised then that his reaction to the request that he meet with Daniel Kelly, the man who had smashed into his car, was one of angry incredulity. He screwed the letter up and threw it into the trashcan. 

“That better not be the first section that you said you’d have done by lunchtime,” Toby said from the doorway.

“It’s not,” Sam replied as he picked up a folder containing the draft and held it out. His words were clipped and Toby was well aware of his barely contained anger. He didn’t take the folder, making Sam look up at him. 

“Anything I need to worry about? 

Sam shook his head and thrust the file forwards. “Worry about this. If you’ve finished the second section you may need to change it if you agree with what I’ve put.”

This time Toby took the file but he didn’t move. “What was it then that’s got you...” he waved his hand in the air, “bristling.”

“It’s a letter from a restorative justice organisation.” He went over to the bin, pulled the letter out and handed it to Toby.

Toby rubbed at his brow, tipping forwards on his toes as he read. “It could help. I don’t know, it could help you to-”

“Help me to what?” Sam asked taking the letter and throwing it back in the trash. “I couldn’t care less how he feels. I hope he feels guilty. I hope he’s painfully aware of the damage he’s done and he’s struggling to deal with it every single day!” Sam returned to his seat and sighed. “I hope he gets help with that but he sure as hell isn’t going to get it from me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Toby gestured to his office, “Now, get in there and write section two.”

“You haven’t started the second section?”

“I was waiting for you to inspire me with the first and then write it for me.”

Sam rolled his eyes but he was smiling and Toby was glad to see no trace of his earlier anger.

They worked for three hours, finished the second section and made a good start on the end of the speech. Toby decided they deserved a break and it was over sandwiches and coffee in the Mess that Sam said, “You know, next week, it’ll be a year since the accident.”

“I know.” Toby put his sandwich down. “Did you want to mark it in some way?”

A soft huff of laughter came in response. “A car wreck anniversary party?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Sam laughed again then realised that Toby was serious. If he said he wanted a party to mark the date that’s exactly what would be arranged. “Thanks, that’s weird, but thanks.” He picked up his sandwich and Toby did the same and they ate in silence for a while. “I don’t want to mark it. It’s just another day, just another date on the calendar.”

“Well, okay then.” Toby said. He had finished his meal and waited for Sam to finish the few fries remaining on his plate. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

Sam looked up in confusion. “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking about when you were first in the hospital. I went to see you and Josh was telling you that your mom was at your place and...” Toby rubbed at his forehead, “I didn’t know you had a cat. I should have known that.”

“I forgive you for not knowing I had a cat.”

“Good.” Toby stood and pushed his chair under the table.

Sam followed him out of the Mess. “I’ve forgiven you because I think you’re using my cat as an analogy for generally not knowing things about me that someone who considers himself to be more than just a boss might reasonably-”

Toby stopped walking. Sam barrelled into him. “You see this is exactly why I don’t do the sharing thing. I take a risk, expose my feelings, and then they’re just laid out there for you to belittle.” 

Sam patted him on the shoulder. “Bruce Wayne said the exact same thing about The Boy Wonder.”

Sam was reading when Josh entered his office. “I was thinking that-”

Sam’s held his hand up to halt his words. He watched as Sam pulled his pad towards him, scribbled down a quote and then nodded.

“I was thinking that we could go for a drink tonight if you’ve got nothing else planned. Just a drink. You, me, Toby and CJ. A drink and something to eat. If you’ve got nothing else planned.” He shoved his hands in his pockets in an attempt to make the question seem as casual as possible. Toby had told him about his conversation with Sam about the anniversary of the accident. They had both decided to leave it unless Sam mentioned it. Josh had decided though that maybe Sam didn’t know what he wanted and at the very least, might not want to be alone tonight. He was pretty certain that his approach was casual enough to let Sam take him up on the offer or ignore the hidden reason for the question if he chose to.

Sam leant back in his seat and pulled off his glasses. “You’re asking if I’d like to recreate the circumstances of the night I nearly died, to mark the anniversary?”

Josh smiled and shrugged. “Okay, I’ll rephrase it. Would you like to A, go for a drink and pretend that tonight is just a normal, no near-death anniversary to mark kind of night or B, go for a drink and think about the miracle of the past year, your survival and to mark the anniversary of your near-death experience or c)…I don’t know…just go home and wallow?”

“Or D, just go home, not wallow and then go to bed.”

Josh nodded and took a seat. “D works as well.”

“Darren called earlier. He also thinks I should go for a drink tonight. He was more intelligent in his broaching of the subject and the possible ramifications of it but to be fair to you, he didn’t offer various scenarios after making the suggestion. He stood and walked over to the window. “Toby asked me a couple of weeks ago…what I wanted to do, if I wanted to do anything. I told him it was just another day on the calendar.” He turned back to Josh. “It isn’t though.”

Josh shook his head. He knew all about anniversaries and trying to pretend it was just another day. He waited.

“I suppose they’ll come a time when it is just another day but until then, well, I suppose we should mark it. Not the accident, not the night it happened but what’s happened since. How everyone has…” He glanced up and was surprised to see Toby and CJ standing in the doorway. He smiled and continued, “How everyone has fought for me, believed that I’d be me again, not let me give up.”

Toby cleared his throat. There was no meaningful response to Sam’s words. He simply rocked forwards and backwards, cleared his throat and said, “Well then, get your coat.” 

Darren met them in the bar. The same bar as a year ago. CJ watched in amusement as Sam showed him the pictures he had taken of their mutual friend’s damaged boat. She offered some lines for the lengthy email they then wrote about their friend’s claims and the actual damage Sam had seen. After this Darren said he needed an early night and as Sam walked him to the entrance, Darren couldn’t help thinking back to how he’d left the bar a year ago. He was happy to see Sam so comfortable with his friends. Finally, he could accept that Sam was going to be okay. Darren had needed to move on from the past year as well.

Sam returned to the table and watched his friends. Josh was trying to interrupt something Toby was telling CJ. She was waving her hand at him to shush, keen to hear the rest of the tale. Sam could tell by Josh’s expression that the story was not a flattering one. He made a mental note to ask Toby to tell him later. Seeing Sam had returned, and keen to turn the conversation away from the embarrassing story, Josh held up his glass. “A toast to Sam’s return.”

“I only went to the sidewalk,” Sam deadpanned.

“You know what I meant!” Josh returned before taking a sip of his drink.

“I do,” Sam replied quietly and lifted his glass in the air. turned to Sam. “To being purposeful, appropriate and independent.”

Toby raised his glass, “I’ll drink to that. What does it mean?”

Josh grinned at Sam, “It’s the level descriptor for the top of the Rancho Los Amigos scale, my friend.” He stood and the others followed. The glasses chinked as they chorused the toast. Josh then pulled a worn piece of paper from his pocket. “Level 10,” he said as he flattened the paper on the table. “Independently initiates and carries out steps to complete familiar and unfamiliar work tasks but may require more than usual amount of time and or compensatory strategies to complete them.”

“I use Post-its and a flipchart. Also, I sometimes have a little stroll in the Rose Garden.” 

Josh continued, “Able to independently procure, create and maintain own assistive memory devices.”

Sam held his finger up and then reached into his pocket pulling out the pen with the built-in recorder CJ had given him. He pressed the button and on hearing the recording of Josh’s voice CJ burst into laughter. Toby had to tell her to shush so he could hear the recording of Josh admitting he was wrong. “How did you get him to say that?” Toby asked.

“I can’t remember what he was wrong about, but he was and he admitted it and so I told him to repeat it and...” he clicked the pen and played the recording again. Josh made a grab for it but Sam pulled it away in time and put it back into his pocket. “That is going to come in very handy.”

Toby rubbed at his beard to hide the smile that Josh’s expression and CJ’s laughter had prompted.

“I’m going to rise above it,” Josh stated and returned to the scale. “Social interaction behaviour is consistently appropriate.”

Sam frowned. “I’m not sure my social interaction behaviour was consistently appropriate before the brain injury.”

“It’s part of your charm,” CJ said. She didn’t miss the shared look between Toby and Josh. She assumed they too were silently celebrating the fact that Sam had used the term brain injury so casually. She couldn’t remember him doing so before. They fell silent each thinking how far Sam had come.

The events of the night a year ago and what followed them, were not mentioned again. They talked about tomorrow’s meetings and speculated on the exact nature of the lewd act performed by Charles Wendsworth outside a 7-Eleven. Toby drained his glass and stood, declaring the evening over before Sam and Josh’s definitions of a lewd act were overheard by someone. They gathered coats and walked out of the bar.

They stood on the sidewalk. They had stood in a similar formation a year ago. Sam opposite Toby, CJ off to one side and Josh slightly behind Sam. “Right,” Toby said in another attempt to end the evening. 

“Right,” Sam answered but no one made a move to leave.

Toby reached into his pocket and pulled out two cigars. “I’ve been saving these. I got them for State of the Union, afterwards but you didn’t hang around. So…I’ve been saving them.”

Sam nodded his thanks and took the offered cigar. “I haven’t had a cigar since…well I can’t remember when.” He rolled it in his fingers and then looked up at Toby. “Thank you.” He turned to Josh and CJ, “and you”. He held out his hand to CJ and she stepped closer to take hold of it.

They stood like that for a while then Josh suggested they walk CJ home and share a cab from there. As one they turned and crossed the street. CJ kept hold of Sam’s hand. Josh and Toby on either side of them. They walked together, slowly. The sound of their laughter grew fainter. They walked to the end of the street and then disappeared from view.

The End

My last fic ever- it’s been a lot of fun. Thank you to those who joined me on the way.


End file.
